Arc Two: Supremacy
by Angra Mainyu1
Summary: The reality of EnmaCho is forced upon Weiß as the demon appears at Koneko. The experienced Shinigami must combat the evil, but the question is who sent the it in the first place? Shounen-ai. Part of the Angra Mainyu saga; Yami/WK crossover. [complete]
1. Part One

**Disclaimer:** Bishounen belong to other people, without those people making bishies like the Yami and Weiß ones, we'd have no bishies to worship. It's a win-win relationship that they own them and we don't. That way they make more bishies, and we have more bishies to worship.   
  
**Angra Mainyu**   
  
_Arc Two - Supremacy - Part One_   
  
----------------------------   
  
Waking up in the early morning hours, Tsuzuki blinked storm cloud eyes at the ceiling, the recollections of earlier resurfacing. After receiving their orders, he and his partner went to the Koneko to speak to the four new Shinigami about what had happened to them and what they had become. Being himself, the older Shinigami had been side tracked by the tantalizing sweet haven of an all-night candy store, buying himself some goodies from his own threadbare pockets so that Tatsumi would not be too mad at him for his overindulging sweet tooth. Which caused him to be late. Which was why Muraki had come upon him so unaware.   
  
That encounter set the mood for their evening as the four new Shinigami first showed their disbeliefs until the memories resurfaced, sending his young partner into a trance with the violent deaths they all faced. The meeting was then adjourned, the four to digest their deaths and the two older Shinigami to rest before they set out to investigate the demon summoning that was the second of their tasks. After seeing the memories of the new Shinigami, Hisoka had to get away for a little while, to clear his head and re-establish the barriers around his gift.   
  
Letting Hisoka go was partly selfish. Tsuzuki had been putting off his own journey into the flames of his subconscious, preferring not to face the demons inside of him that held him paralyzed since Kyoto. Not that it was noticeable; the smiling idiot's mask had been covering the pain inside of him for a very long time, and it rose to cover the vulnerability that he still felt. The frantic rhythm of his heart beat when Muraki was so close to him, and the scent of his pleasure at that weakness brought the need to head. He had to step into the flames again.   
  
Sitting upright, the couch he was stretched out on dipping slightly at the shifting of his weight, the sable haired male glanced around the room, seeing the dark lumps of furniture, tasting the still air thick with promise. The dull brown cloth of his trench coat pooled around his waist, the pockets emptied of the smooth sugar treats before he pulled it around his shoulders as a makeshift blanket. Wiggling his toes sticking out from underneath the edge of the coat, Tsuzuki stretched out, hands curling to fists as he held them over his head, bones sliding back into place after being jarred by the uncomfortable makeshift bed. Nose wrinkling at the bitter taste in his mouth, the older Shinigami stood up, letting his trench coat slide to the floor. He picked up his glass of water from the coffee table, violet eyes staring at the clear liquid before he brought the glass to his lips and drank the stale water. He placed the glass back onto the table and bent down to retrieve his coat, tossing it onto the couch to be followed by his simple dull blue tie and plain white shirt. Twisting to work out the remaining kinks in his back, Tsuzuki glanced around the room again, his lips curling in a faintly bitter, pleased expression. Hisoka was still gone, most likely investigating on his own as he normally did, and the other Shinigami had yet to fully waken. He doubted he would find a better moment than that moment to break his fiery chains.   
  
Pushing the table to one side, he sat on the floor, his legs crossed in the lotus position, hands resting palm up on his knees, an ofuda resting on the palm of one elegant hand. Closing his eyes, Tsuzuki slowly breathed the thick air, holding the breath in then letting it out just as slow. He could visit the Shikigami in dreams, but there would be little focus while in that state. Instead it would be far safer for those around him as well as the Shikigami to approach this matter controlled and collected. Clearing all thoughts all temptations from his surface thoughts, Tsuzuki fell into a trance, his deep brown hair stirring from an unseen heat, the characters on the surface of the ofuda flaring bright, the paper curling, turning to ash. And still deeper he went.   
  
Past the burnt sufferings of childhood, the dank feelings of unease, the bitter taste of unrest, of not knowing who he was or even if he was truly worthy of being alive. Past the crimson soak time of death and betrayal, the stains still on his hands all these years long past. Deeper past the chaos of his insanity, the denial of his humanity, of foodless days and sleepless nights, of a need for death so desperate that his skin bore the marks still. Deep until the echoes of his spirit shape echoed through darkness more tangible than night pressed around him. Darkness that was older than the first beginnings of humanity's struggles, darkness that still brought childish trembling to those that dared to stir it awake. In this stag mired air, Tsuzuki glowed, the twilight violet rippling against the dark, barely holding it at bay.   
  
Then the darkness was in flames.   
  
Fiery oranges and reds and yellows devoured the black ink, tendrils caressing the bared skin of the Shinigami, sending sable locks to dancing in the churning heated air. The clothing Tsuzuki's spirit wore fell into ash, teased away, leaving his lean form unprotected from the rising waves of flames. In the room, the heat rose another notch, the tranced Shinigami's hair, stirring and rising in the circling power contained inside his form. Only if the spirit failed would the power find release, the flames claiming the Shinigami fully as was promised months before.   
  
Stepping without fear into the flames, Tsuzuki reached out with his hands, smelling the scorched skin even as he called out a name.   
  
"Suzaku!"   
  
The flames snaked back, curling against each other, forming wings that flickered and stirred with the air. They uncoiled, spreading out to reveal a large body, the head proud and regal, twin burning spheres of light looking down a hooked beak.   
  
"Tsuzuki," sang the crackling flames, the beak parting, and a flicker of heat tousling the Shinigami's hair. "Why?"   
  
Raising his head to look straight into the sun touched orbs, he did not speak, his violent eyes silent. Holding his hand up, he offered silently another way to answer the questions of the firebird, needing to show more than explain why. Suzaku dipped its graceful head, resting its beak in the elegant hand. And Tsuzuki opened the connection between them, showing the Shikigami all. Fears. Worries. His silent shame. His bone deep weariness. He let it all go. And felt the forgiving flames wrap themselves around him like a mother bird comforting her young.   
  
Sleeping on the floor in the lotus position, a tear trailed down the smooth golden cheek, the heated air cooling again in the still morning hours.   
  
--   
  
The false morning bled into true dawn, the sun shining faintly through the protective cloud cover. Watching it rise, a naked ivory-skinned male leaned against the rough brick wall of a balcony, his single amber eye lazily scanning his surroundings. Mornings have always given the impression of a fresh new start, of cleansing away the pains and tolls of the day before, of chasing the shadows of the night back into their corners far away from the average person. Poor mortal fools. All the sunlight did was make the sins all too real for those who still think that the world was an honest place.   
  
It had been a good night for the self-named Irishman. Not in terms of death and blood, but in terms of pain and lust and all the sins of the flesh. There were few that would associate him knowing anything about sex let alone seek such mindless couplings in bars, but there were people that still believed him to be insane. Then again, Farfarello thought such people were complete waste and only fitting for the slaughter. Farfarello was very much aware of how his own forbidden looks were a magnet to certain kinds of people, though he was not as submissive as few thought at first. Then there were others who knew exactly what he was and hungered for what he could give them.   
  
Like the young man still lying asleep in the bed beyond the open balcony doors, the silken sheets draped loosely on his hips, entangled with his long golden limbs. He looked innocent like that, the triangle of his eyes and mouth relaxed in an exhausted sleep. Farfarello knew intimately how that was a lie, that man with his dark violet hair and slender dancers body his steady lover. They had met in a bar a year ago, each looking for just a casual fling, no strings and no attachments. The was nothing more than that, even though Farfarello knew every single taste and sound and feel of the man's body, of how sometimes he liked to be teased until he was in pain or how he liked it to be whipped bloody or simply held. Last night, he wanted it all.   
  
Farfarello had done everything he asked for, wearing the other male out until he slipped into a peaceful sleep, but feeling restless even if he was sated, the Irishman had gone to watch the sunrise from his apartment balcony. His mind was far away from the current happenings, remembering a different sunrise and a happy voice that might have been his own greeting the dawn. Then with a frown, he pushed off the brick wall and slipped back inside, pausing for a moment to trace the face of the sleeping male, the shallow cuts on his skin covered in gauze, lips still swollen and his narrow hands reaching out for something that he would never find. Raising a bare shoulder in a half shrug, Farfarello gathered his clothing together, slipping them on silently. Then with a last look at the sleeping man, he slipped out the door, listening for the sound of the locks engaging before heading for the elevator and out the building. Time for him to return home.   
  
--   
  
Not much had come of his Internet searching. EnmaCho and the Summoner's Office seemed to have no basis in fact. On the other hand, there were a variety of sites that detailed ideas and names similar to the two organizations and their agents. Most of them connected up with a place called Meifu, otherwise known as Hades or simply another dimension, one meant for the dead. It was all really interesting information, save for the fictional side of it. There was no proof, no eyewitness accounts, no evidence to suggest that these Shinigami were truly real, or truly dead. Nothing that Omi could successfully link to the pair that had arrived on their doorstep last night.   
  
Yet he was starting to believe and accept it.   
  
Even with the blank expanse of memories, the young assassin was beginning to think of they all had been told as the reality of their situation, instead of some sort of dream. His memory of death might have been blank, but that hardly blanked it as a possibility. After all, his memory of being kidnapped had once been blank, but it had truly happened. It just took time for the images and sounds of the past to return to him. The others seemed to recall something about it, and parts of what had been said did ring true.   
  
Of course, beyond the vague thoughts, the youth's decision was backed by fact. As expected with the trained assassin, Omi did not just accept things for truth unless he had something proving it to him, or telling him to believe it. In the current case it was the latter, in the form of an email from someone very familiar and trustworthy.   
  
When he'd sent an email to Kritiker, Omi had hardly expected a response to come from Manx, someone who had left her duties with the organization once Persia had died. But sitting in his inbox was just that, with a file attached detailing some key information that held important relevance to their situation. The note and email address were genuine, tracked as only a hacker of Kritiker would know how, and there was no virus or suggestion that anything was false about it.   
  
Tapping a handful of paper against his palm, the printed out version of the file, Omi rolled back from his computer and considered the matter. The information had been nothing more than confirmation of the Summoner's Office's existence and goals, along with details of that organization aligning itself with Kritiker and making a deal to work together on a series of important cases. Weiß was instructed to work with and get to know the agents sent until the first allied mission was readied. In short, it was everything they needed to understand that these Shinigami were real, in their own sense.   
  
The others needed to see it; then Weiß could consider what it meant.   
  
Getting to his feet, the youth walked softly towards his room door, socked feet making little sound on the carpet. A quick glance to the hallway showed it as empty; curious, but not unusual for the hour. Stepping into the hall, Omi made his way to Ken's room, knocking lightly on the door. The papers still rested in his hands, the intent to show his friend the information and perhaps use that as a base for discussing what was happening - and what had already happened - to their lives.   
  
Despite his penchant for sleeping late, Youji was actually a very light sleeper. With so many different bed partners it was difficult to settle into a nightly routine with any sort of consistency, so as a result the littlest things usually woke him. And this time it had been the gentle knock on Ken's door.   
  
He'd spent the entire night curled up in Ken's recliner after he'd put the younger assassin to bed. Ken had been more traumatized at being dead than he let on to the others. At least once the initial anger had abated. They'd talked a bit about how he'd already known what it was like to die, and that he'd always expected it... but somehow Ken had always felt invincible or immune to death. He'd been raised to believe to go to Heaven and despite his profession, he believed that he'd atoned through his various charitable works, and prayer, that God would have forgiven him.   
  
Youji had never realized how Catholic Ken was. It was cute and Youji had really hadn't been surprised. It seemed to match Ken. It explained Ken just a little bit more, how he was just so forgiving and ready to trust people even if they hadn't earned it.   
  
Stretching out of his thoughts, Youji uncurled himself from the chair letting the blanket fall away. He scratched lightly at his chest and pulled up the pajama bottoms he wore. He walked toward the door as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame the wavy locks when he slowly opened the door. "Hey, Chu. What brings you here?"   
  
--   
  
Not in the mood for a repeat of the previous evening's performance, Schuldig had, not long after Aya had left the penthouse, slunk out to prowl the streets. Boredom and the redhead did not mix. The results often times disastrous for the unwary minds around him.   
  
Like the poor woman on the second floor. Before leaving, Schuldig had checked in on the guards' progress in their strip search for drugs. They had enjoyed themselves -very- much. That had put a smirk on his face. Apparently the woman had enjoyed it just as much. Who knew she enjoyed pain?   
  
The German certainly didn't.   
  
Who in the hell gave the sun permission to shine directly in his face so fucking early in the morning? Or better yet... why was he up -so- early in the morning?   
  
Groaning, Schuldig rolled over to curl back up around his bed partner from the night before. Seeking hands encountered nothing but a warm, empty space beside him. Oi. He cracked one bloodshot eye open to confirm what his body already knew. The redhead was alone, the blond gone.   
  
That really sucked. The note explaining that he had to go to work did nothing to brighten his mood.   
  
Oh yeah. Sitting up had -not- been the smartest of things to do. The room spun and his stomach did this fantastic flip-flop. Well, the trip down memory lane certainly proved that, yes, he could still get drunk... and hung over. He would have tested his theory on drugs too, but Crawford would definitely find a way to kill him for that. And Crawford just didn't need to know that, since he couldn't have the Bombay kitty, what with them being enemies and all, he'd gone and found a suitable look alike to fuck from time to time. The American already thought he was unstable as it was. He would feed the telepath to Aya, who had been eyeing him like he was a nice, tasty snack the night before, for certain after finding that out.   
  
Schuldig shuddered and forced his lazy ass to get out of the bed. Time to be getting back to the Schwarz house after a quick shower and a bite to eat.   
  
-tbc-   
  
**Footnotes:**   
  
Some ask why the Angra Mainyu stories are not posted under crossovers. The reason to this is simple: Angra Mainyu actually revolves more around the Weiß side of the mixture, so it simply fits better to post it in the WK section of ff.net   
  
In regards to ff.net's changes and this account/storyline/group of writers: We will remaining archiving on ff.net for the time being. If that changes, there will be a notice posted in our bio, and put in the Footnotes of new parts as they are uploaded.   
  
Kudos to Ana for helping with the arc title. ie - She named it when I asked for a name.   
  
Read our ff.net profile for information about who we are and what AM is. 


	2. Part Two

**Disclaimer:** Yami and Weiß no ours. All we own is the wording of our writing, the characters belong to the people who own the copyright. Sue us and all you'll do is stop us from writing, thus saddening our readers. Please don't sue.   
  
**Angra Mainyu**   
  
_Arc Two - Supremacy - Part Two_   
  
----------------------------   
  
Sleep, thankfully, was not always required of a Shinigami. At least, not on the constant basis of a living human; the dead could survive a night or two without rest or significant problems if need be. It was that fact that Hisoka had relied on throughout the night, not a second of rest taken as he wandered the streets in search of the other tainted one. His time had been better spent awake in that regard; the other was closer - or closer than they had been when he had begun his search.   
  
Catching a flicker of another mind to the side, Hisoka turned his jade eyes to his unintentional companion, a difficult to read emotion settling in his eyes. While it was not wholly anger, nor hatred, or even a slight touch of understanding or similarity, it managed to be a bit of each. Not all of one, but bits of some warring for control in the pale emerald pools. None could vie for dominance, since he could not yet decide which he should feel given the situation, which was complex at best.   
  
That situation being that he was no longer alone in his investigation, and it was none other than the redhead of Weiß that was voluntarily helping him. Not that he felt he'd needed assistance of any sort; it had simply been a compromise. Ran had followed him from Koneko and he had caught on, his empathy a clear hint as to his being followed; upon turning back and catching the other red-handed the problem of what to do about it had arisen. The assassin clearly hadn't wanted him wandering alone, just as Hisoka did not wish to be babysat; so, indeed, a compromise had been needed to satisfy the moment. In the end it came down to a mind used to Tokyo would know where to go for shortcuts, whereas he had been limited to wandering only towards the faint feeling of the other, with no idea for path or speed. In return, Ran allowed him to continue his search, without much question or conversation. And allowed the assassin to keep an eye on the mysterious Shinigami who had appeared without warning; that much Hisoka was well aware of.   
  
Underneath it all, and what made the teen's anger at the compromise falter, was a soft sense of guilt. Well hidden within the other's mind, but blindingly clear to an empath with as weak of barriers as himself. Something was stewing in the other's mind, and guilt was associated well with it. It was curious, and unsettling; something that he would have to know more about to make a firm decision. Until then he could let the other 'tag along' with him, and act as though he did not need the already precious directions Ran had provided quietly as needed.   
  
Walking along the sidewalk, and avoiding what congestion of humans the early morning hour was bringing, Hisoka turned his attention back to his surroundings, or rather the trace feeling of Muraki's curse upon the soul of another. Only to find that it had disappeared from his mind. He froze, footsteps stilling on the pavement as a hand rose to clutch at his arm, realizing equally fast that the burning in his body had faded away once more. No doubt that the red marks were long faded again, leaving his skin as pale as ever, with no trace of Muraki's presence in his past.   
  
All that meant was the lack of the doctor being around with his influence. That, in turn, left Hisoka up against a brick wall in terms of finding the other person right then and there. Without the similar touch of Muraki's power, he could not just walk up and pick out the victim in a crowd any more than he could a needle in a haystack. The curse, as ironic as it was, was akin to a magnetic in that; he'd need it to have any hope of finding the one small needle of a person in the very large pile of hay.   
  
"Damnit," he muttered, eyes scanning the street for some familiar hint, as useless as that may have been. He wasn't going to give up too quickly, though; his mind opened itself to the sea of emotions that consistently worked through his barriers, hoping to find some hint or image of the doctor's presence. Somewhere to the left he felt a woman's stress of being late, and towards the rear there was a man who seemed to be in dark contemplation of some monetary matter. Nothing defined in thought, simply images and emotions; yet none of them related to the one he needed. The faint disappointment of waking up alone, even though the partner was merely a substitute for another, the lurching of a headache and body upset with motion. That one held him for a moment, his mind wavering on the edge of someone who seemed an entire ocean of minds within one, as though thousands of voices raced through his head without care.   
  
With a shudder, Hisoka pulled himself back within the safety of his barriers, retreating his mind to the small section of his consciousness that was his alone. That was something he did not want to feel again, especially not when there were more important matters at hand. Such as admitting that he had lost the trail.   
  
Sighing, he reluctantly looked at Ran, defeat flickering in his jade eyes before the cold mask that was his own slipped into place. "They're not here," he said sharply. "Or, they were and they just managed to disappear completely. The feeling is gone."   
  
Standing in the slow flow of people traffic on the sidewalk, not many around since the sun rose so early in the morning here, Ran just watched the other Shinigami as he seemed to concentrate and extend his power out to try to snare a hold of the trail they'd been following all night. It was an interesting thing to watch an empath at work he supposed... he'd only met one other similar to Hisoka, and that was Schwarz's telepath. He had never really felt the urge to sit and watch Schuldig play his mind games, rather preferring to just keep himself and his team away from it and not manipulated as the German possibly could.   
  
It had been a long night, though he wasn't really tired. An advantage he supposed of being dead... one did not have to follow the strict criteria of rest and food to keep a body healthy when they weren't alive. Despite some emotional confusion and his feet hurting a bit from walking around all night, he felt completely fine. He'd have to remember to ask Hisoka of the minor differences between being dead and alive. Did he even -ever- have to eat, or sleep? He was a bit hungry. But was that his habitual mind thinking he needed food making him hungry? Minor details to think on though there were far more things to think on.   
  
As the jade-eyed boy told him he'd lost the trail, the redheaded blade expert of Weiß sighed softy but nodded, a bit disappointed as well. He wasn't sure what exactly he'd been expecting to find on this search through the streets of Tokyo, but he'd been expecting... something. Or hoping... Though the night had hardly been a waste, at least not on his part. Though he was hardly about to reveal all deep dark secrets to the boy and hand to him as much trust as Weiß had... some of his wariness of the Shinigami had dissipated. The boy simply reminded him a bit of... the others of Weiß, in ways. And of himself. It was almost as if looking into a darker mirror version of himself questing ever so for revenge... Though Ran had at least succeeded in his vengeance in his life, he wasn't forever plagued for all eternity on delivering justice...   
  
Well... perhaps not... He still had the particular fate of his sister to deduce and then to revenge possibly. As well as the fate of his teammates and his -own- life...   
  
Frowning lightly, Ran watched a few people pass by, seeming to feel something well in him as they passed... the same something that was dispelled even before he could pinpoint what it was when someone else passed by. Intriguing... he'd never felt that before when just walking down the street, surrounded by the various people going about their lives. Lifting his hand to brush the crimson silk of his bangs hanging over his face away, his deep gaze met with Hisoka's. "We should return to Koneko then..." he said in his usual soft but strong tones. His gaze left the boy's and he looked at one of the buildings near them and then to a street sign to see just where they'd ended up. A short touch of a pained emotion flared through him at the thought of returning to his home but he tried to brush it off quickly before he could name what it was... what he was feeling at the inevitability of going back to the others of Weiß who were, or would be soon, waking to their first day of knowing they were dead. Because of him. They'd surely have things to start learning to prepare themselves for their new positions in existence, so there would be no hiding in his room or on the fire escape for him today to get away from their accusing and hating looks.   
  
Trying to brush all of that deep angsting and self-loathing and guilt ridden thoughts away with the reminder he was with an empath who he didn't need syncing himself with his emotions again, Ran turned to head down the street back towards the flower shoppe. He should get back before they started thinking he ran out on them. Got them killed and abandoned them... what a wondrous leader he'd be. With how far they were from the apartments, he could probably be back by the time he usually woke up. "We're not far."   
  
--   
  
Blink.   
  
That was different and slightly unexpected. For a second, Omi wasn't certain he'd gone to his friend's room as much as Youji's, but a glance around the half-nude playboy confirmed that it was the soccer player's abode, with the playboy in it. Which led him right back to the unexpected thought, as in why Youji was in Ken's room. As far as he knew, there wasn't anything between them. Was there?   
  
"Youji-kun, are you... - and Ken-kun?"   
  
Blinking again, the youth shook his head and cleared his throat. That wasn't his place to ask, nor was it really important in the current matter. What they did on their spare time was fine. And, come to think of it, Youji had brought Ken upstairs to bed the night before, so, honestly, it wasn't that hard to assume all that was running through the teen's mind already.   
  
Damnit, Omi, mind out of the gutter before Youji decided to tease.   
  
Coughing a bit more, he held up the file of information for the older male to look at if he so wanted. "It's information about the Summoner's Office," he finally managed, trying to keep his mind on the more serious matter of their deaths instead of what Ken and Youji were doing at night. "I got it this morning from Kritiker... Manx sent it to me."   
  
_/Youji-kun, are you... - and Ken-kun?/_   
  
The blonde had to smirk at that. It did rather look that way especially since he was in Ken's pajama pants, which were a bit too small in the leg length to go much further past his shins.   
  
Grinning widely, he ignored the bit of information Omi held in his hands and leaned against the doorjamb. Sticking his thumb into the waistband of the pants, tugging them dangerously low on the one end, the smirk widened and his emerald gaze smoked over into that 'I'm eyeing something delicious and beddable' look. His voice also took on that same quality as he drawled lazily.   
  
"No Omi... we're not. My tastes run a bit... sweeter... more blonde... more genki... and definitely cherubic. Know anyone that fits the bill, Chu?" He winked lightly. Leaning forward he sniffed lightly along the boy's neck and murmured softly, "Didn't you just turn 18, Chu?" Continuing with his light seduction and with a light lick along the boy's ear, Youji snapped the file out of Omi's most likely distracted hands and immediately straightened as if nothing had happened at all. "Whatcha dig up my little Chu-ie Morsel?"   
  
--   
  
The sound of voices speaking woke Tsuzuki up from his trance-induced sleep, violet eyes blinking away the sleep in his eyes as he stretched his arms over his head. Shinigami did not need sleep, but there were times when the familiar pattern of resting was a comfort after a stressful day of work. Or diving deep into memories that were best left undisturbed. But everything was fine now; he had made peace with the Tern Bird and found that center of stubborn strength that made him unable to give up even when he wanted to. That part that clung to life even while the rest of him tried over and over again to leave it, only to become a Shinigami when he did so.   
  
Standing up, he ran a hand through his hair, his lips parting in a yawn as he glanced around the room. The murmuring voices were too faint and distant to make out the words, but Tsuzuki knew that they were talking about him. Or rather, about the Summoner's Office and the Shinigami. Glancing up the stairs, he pondered for a moment about listening in to the conversation then rolled his shoulders in a shrug. They still had things to work out between them and he would just be butting in where he did not belong. Besides, he was getting hungry.   
  
Picking up his shirt, he pulled it on, humming tunelessly to himself as he buttoned it up halfway. Picking up his coat and tie, Tsuzuki draped them over the couch, and grabbed a box of pocky to make a light snack while he waited. Five minutes later, the pocky was gone and he was still hungry. Eyeing the chocolate liquors, he pondered the merits of eating them then remembered how he acted while slightly sloshed. Hisoka would be mad if he got drunk off of candies while working. He normally yelled at him when he wasn't working and drunk as well. Giving Hisoka a mental count of five more minutes, Tsuzuki threw away the empty pocky boxes and eyed the candies.   
  
Well, maybe one wouldn't hurt...   
  
--   
  
_'You make it hard to breathe  
It's as if I'm suffocating'_   
  
Her very presence seemed able to suck all of the air from a room, pulling away all of the living essence as ones nearby are left gasping for breath. Every strangled pull for breath in vain, just making them seem to sink further into darkness and loss. Already dead long before they could scream. Long before they even felt the first pains of slow suffocation of loss of blood and lack of oxygen... The bewitching beauty was careful to not let any of her true self show until it was too late.   
  
And it was indeed too late.   
  
_'And when you're next to me  
I can feel your heart beat through my skin'_   
  
What was it about feeling the final beat of a person's heart beneath their flesh that gave her what she needed to survive? Where some had a blood lust for death, a craving for the fast beatings of a heart as it struggled to pump blood to torn flesh through mangled limbs, she simply enjoyed it. Needed it on some level that far exceeded that of primal hunting urges that some humans acted on... She needed it, she craved it. It was what she was created for. Created and bred in a world of destruction and darkness which was the antithesis of the world of the living. Watching the blood flow and being the one to make the incision and the tears was what allowed her to stay here. The river of dark crimson fluid fueling her similar to how the open portal to the hell realm. It was the same tortured depravity of her home world.   
  
_'It makes me sad to think  
This could all be for nothing'_   
  
Some she didn't even have to kill herself. A few careful words and twisted promises... and their souls were hers. Their bodies were in her possession and hers to do with as she so pleased. And they -so- longed to please their mistress. One she watched as he dug his own fingers into his chest to rip out his heart, screaming as he plunged hard to break ribs. Hoping the demoness would grant him immortality before the last of his blood spilled to let the wet warmth coat the ground, the coldness of death replacing it. But her soft sweet laughter joined with the screams. All of his wishes were for naught. He would be given nothing from her because she had already gained what she needed from him. His eternal soul, his blood, his death. His damnation.   
  
_'I wish there was a way  
For you to see inside of me'_   
  
This was what she was. This was what she craved. Destruction and death in manners she chose and thought fitting. Not the planned destruction the oracle desired, wasting time and delaying talents. There should not be limitations on the art of chaos... Not the uncontrolled crumbling the other demon created which could fall back on her. There was no deep motivation and logic save for destruction... of everything but herself. Something which she could not have since she was indebted to the ones who summoned her and therefore must abide by their plans for mass destruction. There were even laws she must abide by so long as she was in the form which they provided. She was a creature unlike all, the embodiment of fear and loathing and everything else. And such things were not patient beings... but they were devious... and intelligent.   
  
The pale morning light fell over the girl as she made her way through the streets of Tokyo... even with all of her killing that night, not a single drop of crimson was on her dress. Not difficult when bodies were drained before being crushed and pierced. But demons were also curious beings in their own ways, delving into the deeper inner psyche of humans just to destroy them much easier. Curiosities could be dropped just as easily as they were picked up. She was also a creature sensitive to the elements... though hardly psychic powered like the ones who had called her, the demon residing in the form of Fujimiya Aya could sense things. And one thing she sensed now was something of another realm... something the living would never accept. Stories of the undead living among the upper world traveled even down to the inner depths of hell where she came forth.   
  
And she sensed something not from this realm... or the next. But another, far above her reach. So damn her if she was curious. Deep midnight blue eyes peered curiously at the rising sunlight shining on the closed shoppe front of Koneko, the girl standing a block away. Staring at the building that had housed the ones so crucial to Schwarz's plans at one time... Curious though, could ones from another realm figure into the living oracle's visions?   
  
Figuring there was only one way to truly find out, the girl stayed where she stood. Just waiting to see what would happen next. What an interesting day this could prove to be.   
  
_(We don't own 'What Do I Have To Do'. Stabbing Westward does.)_   
  
--   
  
Only once he had assured himself that his slowly made admission was, indeed, true did Hisoka fall in step with Ran's, keeping a touch to the side and a half pace back from the other. Pale pools of green still kept attention on their surroundings, his loss of the cursed feeling hardly translating into complete defeat in searching out the other. They were still nearby, or had been before everything faded; he would find them, even if he had to rely on luck alone. He was well overdue for some good luck, so there was still hope in that.   
  
There were times when Hisoka forgot how unnerving his empathy could be for others. Being a gift he could simply not shelve and ignore for hours at a time, the youth had been forced to accept the sheer existence of it. Through that, as inadvertent as it was, he learned to live first around it, and then with it. No good came of denying the existence of his empathy, something he learned long ago. His parents had tried to forget it existed, but that had not erased it - all that had resulted was the lesson that he would have to learn to live with it, and being locked up in a room all his life for it. Overall, it was easier to simply accept the gift than to be bitter for it - his bitter anger was better directed elsewhere anyways.   
  
However, as a result of his casual acceptance of the gift, sometimes Hisoka failed to notice the counsel he took from it. There were times when he simply acted on the impulse of another, or perhaps felt their surface impression and answered unspoken questions or insecurities. Such as the present, when Ran's sudden emotional pain flared up and into his own mind, carrying with it soft images of the man's faint fears. The upset of being the leader who led them to death, the insecurity ever associated with being rejected, and the thoughts of how they would accept their deaths, and perhaps not his. It was breeding grounds for an eternal problem; something that Hisoka did not have the patience to deal with.   
  
"They'll get used to being dead," he said suddenly, speaking as though replying to something Ran had said, when there had been nothing but silence. "And they'll know it wasn't your fault. Unless you shot them, or ran them through, or whatever, you're not at fault. The only murderer is the demon that was summoned, and that's what has to be dealt with. Stop worrying about it and give them some bloody time; twelve hours means nothing when they have countless years to think about it."   
  
Lapsing back into silence, Hisoka brought his green gaze back towards the street, spying a dark-haired girl roughly his age standing on the corner that they were approaching. Tilting his head, he felt a faint curiosity from her filtering into his mind. There was also a bit of proud defiance in her aura, which stood out sharply against the sheer darkness that was the rest of her apparent soul. There counted only two times in his life he had ever felt such lack of humanity in anything, the first being Muraki and the second being one of the four lords of Hell when it had possessed Tsuzuki. All-encompassing darkness, a pure evil that craved destruction and hid so well in the body of innocence. It was more than enough to snap him alert. Holding out a hand to the side, a signal for the other to stop, Hisoka rested his other hand on his rip, seeming quite casual. If his sense of direction was still functional then the girl was looking at the street with the assassins' home, and flower shoppe. With the feeling of darkness about her, he decided to assume she was staring at the Koneko. "They aren't open yet," he said bluntly, hardly expecting any sort of surprise from the young woman. With the sort of otherworldly void about her, he figured that she well knew of his approach. "So you're not welcome here at all."   
  
--   
  
Distracted was hardly the word for it.   
  
Sapphire eyes, widened in surprise at the words and actions, stared at Youji for a moment while the youth's jaw hung slightly open. That had been unexpected, roughly on the level of finding Youji in Ken's room, wearing a pair of Ken's pajama pants. Both left Omi in quite the state of uncertain surprise, with no real response to them necessary. Certainly, he should have expected some joke to come from Youji, perhaps suggesting his had a perverted mind from surfing all those porn sites that the playboy sometimes seemed convinced he did - which, he would truthfully defend that he did not do - but to see and hear the seductive shift in the other's manner was something he wasn't accustomed to. Worst of all, it was getting harder to tell when Youji was being a tease or being quite serious.   
  
Mental note was made that turning eighteen made one a perfect target for the playboy's teasing. Omi figured that a rejuvenating formula of sorts might back him down again to the more stable land of hacker porn teasing. He wasn't sure if this whole new land of seductive teasings was something he was up to handling.   
  
Coughing, he refocused himself on the matter at hand: The Summoner's Division. Not Youji and the confusing matter of where the playboy drew the teasing line, but rather the important matter of their deaths and what Kritiker had told them about.   
  
Still blushing somewhat, the red shade having touched his cheeks shortly after Youji's actions, Omi cleared his throat and glanced at the sheets Youji was looking through. "I didn't dig it up so much as Manx set it to me," he explained quietly, not wanting to wake up Ken, if his friend was indeed still sleeping. "I tried looking online for anything about the Shinigami or EnmaCho, but all I found were stories without evidence. Stuff about Meifu and ghosts, that sort of thing. Then I got this -" pausing, he pointed to the papers in the playboy's hands, "- in an email. It's new orders from Kritiker explaining that the Summoner's Office does exist and that we are now to work with their agents and accept what they told us last night."   
  
Trailing off, he waiting for that to sink in before speaking again. The next words he had to say were something that could be called unbelievable, but he had found proof to the contrary. It was real, except extremely hard to accept, especially for him. "Like I said, Manx sent it to me," he added, his voice echoing a certain source of hesitation. "I double-checked, the lines were true. But... She's not supposed to work for Kritiker anymore, Youji-kun. Her ties with the organization were severed after Persia died. Not really knowing what to do, I looked further into the source of the email, and you'll never guess where it came from. Persia's office, with his personal authorization coded to it. It's real, Youji-kun... We're dead, and he's telling us that we are."   
  
Letting his words fade, Omi bite his lip lightly, shifting his weight more onto one foot as he wrapped his arms across his stomach. The meaning of what he had just said was still settling in his mind. There was only one person that had known how to attach Persia's authorization codes to anything, and that had been Takatori Shuuichi, Persia himself. Omi's own uncle, for that matter, who had died in his arms when they went to kill Reiji for their 'final' mission. It was a death he had dealt with, putting his family behind him with that last relative gone. Now, though, he wasn't sure what to think.   
  
Ken on the other hand was a moderate sleeper. It took a little longer than Youji to awaken. He'd gotten as far as Youji's question about Omi's gathered information when he woke up. He just hadn't felt like actually moving. Instead he listened through closed eyelids at what the two... or rather Omi was calmly pointing out.   
  
Sitting up he rubbed at his eyes and shook a hand through his shaggy hair. There. Hair groomed for the day. Padding quietly over to the assemblage at his door, Ken scratched at his abs before puling up the cotton biker shorts up to a more modest level. He really had to pee but that could wait. And did he _really_ have to pee or was it just that habitual sensation of having to go really bad in the morning.   
  
Well if they suddenly found themselves standing in a puddle, they'd have their answer, wouldn't they.   
  
Yawning a bit he poked his head under Youji's arm to stand in front of him. Damn lanky bastard taking up the whole door way. "So does that mean Persia is one of us? That would explain why we kept getting missions from him even after we all nearly saw Reiji kill him."   
  
"Ken I didn't know you were so coherent in the morning! Nice of you to wake up."   
  
"Bite me Kudou."   
  
"Like you did last night?"   
  
Ken's eyes practically bulged out of his head at that, "WHAAAAT?!"   
  
"Come on. The secret's out. Omi knows we're sleeping together and I just invited him into my harem. Aya's next."   
  
"We're not... I'm not... Ew! No. OMI!!! Hey! Hands off Aya or I'll kill you!"   
  
Grinning Youji turned his attention back to Omi. "See why we're not screwing each other Omi? Ken has the hots four our little Aya."   
  
Ken turned and swiftly banged his head on the doorjamb in mock agony. "Why me. If I weren't already dead I'd be wishing it now. All we need now is for Aya to walk in."   
  
The exchange between Youji and Ken was enough to drag Omi out of the little spiral of thoughts that had claimed him since realizing that Persia was the source of the new information. Depression and immersion in memories of what it had been like to be the odd-one-out on the team and related to the Takatori bloodline was nothing to aim for, therefore the light smile touching his lips after the little stretch of teasing was more than welcome.   
  
"Daijoubu, Ken-kun," he said warmly, reaching out and putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, supportive as ever. There wasn't much more that he could contribute beyond saying that it was fine, since he had little-to-no experience in the sort of territory Ken was entering in terms of infatuation (or whatever term better suited it). After all, he had a grand history of Ouka and nothing else, and that was hardly suitable for founding sage advice. Anyone using a relationship ending in discovery of blood relation and then death for advice could generally be called insane, and Omi was not that.   
  
As much as Omi would have liked to dwell on the topic and make sure Ken was okay, or see if there was anything he could do to help, Omi well knew that there were more important matters at hand. Weiß's new ordered association with the Shinigami was the major one, followed closely by whether or not said assassins would be okay to work with that.   
  
"Maybe I should go show the information to Aya-kun," he ventured slowly, his mind working through the possibilities of what they could do next. "And check to make sure our visitors are still around; they have as much a right to know this information as we do." Sighing softly, Omi glanced towards Ran's door, hesitating in his resolve slightly. After the incident between the redhead and Ken the night before, the genki youth was not sure how sane it would be to try to approach the stoic assassin. Then again, the moods of others hadn't always stopped him from bringing information or questions that plagued him in the past, but with Ran, it was a more delicate matter. He'd precariously walked the line of the other's patience before, when he'd been trying to resolve his own troubled family ties, and he didn't like to upset the katana wielder any more than necessary.   
  
--   
  
Walking along slightly in front of the other male without a complaint, Ran glanced back at him at his reply to something he hadn't voiced. His pale lips parted but then he just continued walking, knowing all too easily that he was an empath. That was definitely going to take some getting used to. He just shrugged softly and continued walking, unfazed for now by the man's assurances it wasn't his fault or the thought that it was now. Ran was a very odd in many senses of the word... he sometimes it seemed wasn't content to go on unless he had something to avenge, or something to criticize himself for. The man seemed to thrive on angst and loss and pain like no other, every hurt he felt just pushing him on harder and further and stronger than before. Though he wasn't really pleased with the idea of his trusted team despising him and looking at him in anger for his indirect cause of their deaths, it wasn't going to really ever stop the male. Just give him something else to brood about.   
  
He didn't reply to Hisoka's words as they just continued on down the sidewalk, moving past people easily with his hands slipped into his pants pockets. As they neared Koneko he wouldn't have been able to continue forward motion even if he had wanted to, his muscles falling still and frozen as he caught sight of the dark haired girl just half a block away. Ran couldn't yet see her face or profile but the long cascades of raven's wing hair were unmistakable, though he was used to seeing those silken tresses pulled into long plaits about her shoulders.   
  
Deep violet eyes just stared for a moment at the girl's back, a light glare being sent Hisoka's way on instinct for his rude words to her. That was his sister... the one he'd started all of this for...   
  
As expected, the girl was hardly surprised at all by the pair's approach and she turned at Hisoka's words, regarding him with dark blue eyes. A light breeze moving down the street stirred her hair as she peered at the two. The blonde's arrogant slightly defensive stance was noted but Aya's gaze fell more on the redhead who was staring at her as if she were some beautifully blessed and long sought after beacon of light in the pitch darkness. Though the true Fujimiya Aya was still locked deep in her own mind in an endlessly repeating pleasant dream of laughter and smiles, the demon knew a few basic facts of the host form it held.   
  
One very prevalent fact being the one that she was now facing the only remaining family member of this vessel. A very... dead family member at that.   
  
"I didn't come here for flowers," she replied in a soft quiet voice, casting her eyes down to look up at the two demurely through her lashes, toeing her shoe innocently and shyly against the ground. Her soft melodic tones were different from what Schwarz heard, the pitch sweeter and losing some of that timeless quality her dark age had given her, letting the feminine tones seem to reverberate down to the very depths of one's soul and chill it. She figured the full power of her voice wouldn't fit with what she had here in front of her. Wouldn't match the part of the innocent imouto she could play.   
  
"Oniichan..." Her voice was just a soft whisper as the wind tossed her hair in front of her face, hiding the darkness of her irises. She knew all of the redhead's attention was already on her so she had no need to repeat her little trick of pulling all eyes to her.   
  
Eyes that had been glaring at the other Shinigami returned to look at the girl at the soft whisper, it taking every bit of his willpower to not just run to her and gather her in his arms. Holding her close and letting nothing harm her or ever take her away. After so long he was finally seeing her standing right there before him... the early morning light seeming to glow on her dress and giving her a light of her own. Making her look like a fallen celestial being standing among the mortal. When she was really as far from one as one could get...   
  
He took a few steps forward, smiling at the girl softly as she turned to face them, the white flowing skirt billowing about her lean legs like a ballerina's skirt. Every single moment done with an unnatural grace. But it was the dress that caught and held his attention for an extended moment, making the slight bit of warmth which had blossomed run cold. He could easily remember seeing a dress similar to that on a dark haired girl... just before crimson blood flowed and chaos poured thick and death coated over them all. "You're not my sister..."   
  
Jade eyes narrowed, suspicion of the girl - or rather the creature, as he assumed with the hints so blatantly defined to him - clearly tainting the captivating depths. Her innocent act was persuasive, he would admit that, but the depth to which her voice touched him woke him from whatever captivation the sweet nature could have held him in. Her pure essence phased through his mind, leaving him feeling colder than ice, telling him of the endless void that should have been the warmth of a human soul and emotion.   
  
Intent on the form of Aya, Hisoka managed to remain clear of Ran's surprise, his mind too busy simply dealing with the darkness to be taken by the other's shift in mood. That hardly freed him from experiencing sensations and certain images from Ran, of a family, warmth, comfort, and protection. Things long lost, destroyed many times over by forces beyond his control. All of it focused around the form of the girl, someone who was not who she apparently seemed.   
  
"No, it's not," he said quietly, in a half-conscious response to Ran's statement. Risking a momentary look to the other - risk in that Aya had been moved to 'enemy' status due to the sheer coldness housed in the body thus had to be treated as dangerous - Hisoka made no move to disguise his own return glare to Ran for the response the redhead had started at his own actions. There were times when empathy could prove further use, in showing him the first reaction anyone had to a situation; it was the first impression that showed the truth of the person, and not the carefully schooled verbal response. Something that he knew and used to keep from being betrayed ever again.   
  
However, he could go into that later. First there was a young woman to deal with, one with a dark soul and only god knew what powers and purpose.   
  
"Then why are you here?" he asked bluntly. "If not for flowers, you must want something."   
  
"Oh but I am," the girl said in her soft sweet voice in reply to Ran, darkened blue eyes blinking softly at Hisoka's 'get lost' words other as if in confusion. The redhead's initial reaction to her sweet kind appearance had been encouraging, the exact type of thing she was looking for and even though it passed, it was enough to make her keep up that appearance to throw him off guard. She decided then what she did want from her little trip here. Even though she was a bit outnumbered, she wasn't worried in the least. Worst came to worst she could run or take flight if these Shinigami proved a bit more than she judged.   
  
Even as she kept up the cute demeanor, inwardly she smiled. Humans really were so simple and pathetic in their own ways. But this one... he wasn't truly a -threat- in her world, but the existence of someone who cared so very much for the being who originally had this body could prove to be troublesome in the future. Not enough to break the true Aya out but someone like that would be best to be watched... and under the demoness' own control. There were really two clear purposes for a demon brought forth: destruction and possession. Possession if done right could be a smaller and more creative form of destruction, owning a person completely they'd follow one's every command. Even if that command is to ruin and destroy everything they once loved.   
  
And she wanted to own this one who so loved her host body. If things went well, she would be walking away from here with a new little pet who'd protect her against his former friends if they came out. He'd be entertaining on the plane ride to Germany she and Schwarz were supposed to go on later today.   
  
Invisible powers flexed out from her to wrap around Ran to the very core, trying to tighten around his very soul so she could pull it to her grasp and possess him. Instead of the cold powerful void one usually felt when she did this, she tried to give a feeling of warmth, a final long awaited reunion with his sister. This always went so much better if they were willing and didn't fight the soul possession. "I am your sister, Ran... Come be with me. We can be together, forever... Come away from here and just be with me."   
  
As she continued to strengthen her hold on him and tried to coax him to allow it, a tiny smile was sent Hisoka's way in reply to his question though she didn't speak any words. She wanted simply what she wanted. And it couldn't be found in any store. And she would allow little to stop it.   
  
Ran sighed softly as he felt the girl's powers wrap about him, soft and comforting but...wrong. Everything was wrong. Her reaction to seeing him finally, even the confident way she held herself. His sister had always been shy and used him as protection, usually holding to his arm when they met people they didn't know. With a quieter confidence as this one had. The warmth was nice but he was still resistant. The resistance grew as he felt her experimentally tug at his very soul, causing a flash of pain to go through him, his body fighting that separation and his own natural powers which hadn't come to full awakening trying to strengthen his soul to protect himself. His knees shook lightly and he put out a hand to lean against the wall, still feeling the pulling as the demon was determined to get what she wanted even if he didn't want to give it.   
  
"Iie..." was all he managed to say, his hand on the wall closing into a fist, a light glance going to Hisoka, the slight pain showing in his violet eyes that the empath was already most likely experiencing from him as the demon attempted to pull his soul to her own hold.   
  
--   
  
The penthouse apartment was quiet. Waking up from his light sleep, Brad looked blearily at the ceiling, letting the images and visions that had wormed their way into his sleeping mind fade. Sleep. The one thing that was both a blessing and a curse to the precog. It allowed him a way to rest and work the previous day's information out, but it also was the time when he was most vulnerable to the power of his sight. He didn't dream like normal people did; that part that gave him his visions also made sure of that.   
  
When he was younger, Brad had wished to be normal. To have a loving family and good friends. To be able to dream and think about a wife and 2.5 kids and a dog. Not saddled with a gift that no one else believed in and to be considered crazy by all around him. The control he had over his ability had taken a lot of time and effort, so he had a good reason to flaunt it. Even though there were times when that power scared him.   
  
Scared him because he dreaded to wake up without it. Or to find that he could no longer contain it.   
  
Frowning at his rambling thoughts, Brad snagged his glasses from the nightstand and slipped them on, the world coming back into focus. Kicking off the blankets, he got to his feet, stretching the last of the kinks from sleeping before he went through his usual morning preparations. First some coffee, followed by a short shower, then pulling on a pair of sweat pants and going to their gym for an intense two-hour workout.   
  
The rhythmic exercise of shadowboxing and hitting the punching bag helped in settling the visions of sleep into their proper places. It also relaxed tense muscles and was a far more satisfying way to vent previous frustrations than taking the way of other members of Schwarz. He was not about to go hunting for a warm body to fulfill his carnal needs, nor did he feel the need to. Despite how much Schuldig muttered, being celibate was good for the leader of this particular wolf pack. It made him less likely to be influenced by anyone else.   
  
He kept on moving through his practice, his body dripping with sweat by the time he was done, his black hair soaked and his glasses refusing to stay in place. He supposed that maybe he should get contacts for his boxing, but the glasses were useful props as well as allowing him to see properly.   
  
Toweling off, Brad moved from the gym to the kitchen for some more coffee, knowing that soon Farfarello and Schuldig would be slinking back after their night of their fun. Aya was another question. So much was switching concerning the possessed girl that he wasn't sure what would be happening next. As much as Brad hated to do so, he had to wait for the visions there to become much clearer before he can move.   
  
--   
  
The decision to return and observe the house of the new dolls he wanted was turning out to be quite the efficient one.   
  
Such Muraki decided as he approached the ledge of the roof, atop the building across from Koneko. His one natural eye, the eerie silver as unnerving as ever, gazed down upon the sight of his puppet, Schwarz's puppet, and the unclaimed one in their impromptu meeting. Glancing at the possessed young lady, he shrugged softly, correction himself. Aya was not so much Schwarz's puppet as she was a dangerous creature barely contained by them. One that they stood to lose for their inattention towards her power and worth.   
  
The demon was a prize they deserved to lose, considering their disrespect for him the night before. The Irishman, in particular, had been most defiant in the face of their informational benefactor. Without Muraki, Schwarz would not have summoned the creature, and without the creature's arriving gift, they would not be immortal. Such said that a certain level of worshipping respect, or at least polite reverence for the man who held such information that passing tidbits were enough for immortality. But nothing of the sort had happened; instead there had been a verbal game of chess, and no catching of attention from the others. Even the sheer absence of one was like an insult. Certainly no way to treat the services he had paid them, and that which he could offer them through an alliance.   
  
Considering the insolence that had been shown to him, no matter how slight it may have seemed, Muraki watched the scene below with interest. Perhaps a lesson was to be learned by Schwarz, and the situation could prove the teacher. He knew well that his chosen doll, the jade-eyed blond, had the ability to free the sleeping soul of the girl and through that reject the demon; perhaps that was something he could use to his advantage. The host had been touched by his power, to keep the soul asleep for the perfect summoning, and it would be simple for him to awaken her through that contact. No doubt it would alert his dear puppet, but that was simply a chance to take in order to reap the endless benefits of forced education. Besides, the boy was so amusing in his intense, uncontrollable anger, it would be interesting to watch his upset show.   
  
Smiling in the mysterious, and oddly taunting, fashion he preferred, Muraki extended his influence once more. Had the moon been out it would have stained to a dark ruby, but for now no true evidence existed of his power. It was at a peak in the night hours, but more than sufficient to awaken his cursed dolls and let them know of his calling to them. The boy would likely realize first, but the girl would respond too. It just took time to awaken the sleeping soul.   
  
--   
  
Nearly every motion being made by the redhead was being mirrored at a slower rate in the blonde. Though free of the minds, Hisoka could feel the overwhelming grasp of the creature reaching out to his companion, knowing that the creature in the innocent form was trying to take something. Had it been anything physical, the jade-eyed youth would not have known the depth of the power's grasp, but the soul was metaphysical, linked to the mind. And, through that, linked to the emotions of the person. As such, the pain Ran felt indeed did phase to his being, bringing a cold sweat to his brow. He could feel the resistance of the other, the hurt that resulted in it, but there was nothing he could do but be silent witness to it.   
  
At least, that was all he could do if he allowed himself to be swallowed by the other.   
  
However, Hisoka had been careful to keep a small distance between he and Ran, habit telling him that in the face of even presumed danger it was smarter to stand alone, so that a partner or ally could be free of a direct hit, and vice versa. That distance saved him from reaching out to the other for support, leaving his legs the only support he had until he regained full control. Without the contact between them, Hisoka was distant, and sync he had experienced the day before almost impossible to reoccur. He had the space and will he needed to escape it.   
  
"He said no," he spoke coldly, straightening slowly, anger showing in his gaze as it rested on the girl. "So let him be." Curling his fingers into a fist, the young Shinigami raised his arm, trembling slightly as he fought to keep his mind as his own. Summoning up the control over his spiritual energy, Hisoka let his arm drop at a slant, invisible force being released in the action. It was like a wave of formless power, the only sign of it being the path of cement being torn up by it as it drove straight towards the girl. That, though, was hardly sufficient to simply free Ran from the other; or, rather, it was up to the skill and power of the thing before them to deal with his counter-attack. With hope it would distract enough to free the redhead, but Hisoka was not known to be an optimist. His reaction had done what he needed, showing clear defiance in his own mind, and freedom that allowed him to regain control.   
  
Prepared to follow his rare offensive with a barrier against physical counterattack, Hisoka froze. In the interim, almost unnoticed at first, the familiar burning had begun to dig into his very bones, unmistakable in origin. Muraki's power and influence, arisen once more, his own body an endless sort of signal to that. It wasn't so much in heat coursing through the marks on his body that caught his attention so much as it was the feeling in the girl before them. The similarity he had been tracking all night radiated off of her, the meaning of that clear. The victim he had been searching for was right before them, but was hardly what he'd expected.   
  
The question was, what had Muraki done to her? Given her the powers, or made her a host for higher powers?   
  
"What the hell are you?" he added, his voice picking up the dark taint of anger. Not directed at the demon, but at what had been done, and the intent want to know of it.   
  
--   
  
Things came into focus a few seconds later. With a muttered curse, Brad emptied his cup out in the sink and went to change into another of his cream colored suits. Once again the immaculate business man, Brad knocked once on Nagi's door then opened it, not caring if the teen was awake or not at that moment. They had a short space of time to work in, if they wanted to keep their precious demon right where they needed it otherwise the contract would be null and void.   
  
And he for one did not want to find out how much damage their immortality could take.   
  
"Nagi, we have an appointment to keep. Get dressed and come with me now."   
  
Even as he spoke to the telekinetic, Brad dropped the outer layer of his silence, knowing that the German would be able to hear his mental commands even through the sea of humanity Schuldig heard every moment of his life.   
  
_//Schuldig, go to the Koneko without being seen and take Farfarello with you. You should be right across the street from our Berzerker right now. I want you to observe Miss Aya but do not interfere unless she looks like she's being beaten by the others there. I should be coming by in a few minutes but not in time for a fight if there is one. Do what you must in order to keep the demon right where it is.//_   
  
--   
  
As the invisible outlash of power came at the girl, she dropped her curled hold on the leader of Weiß's soul, Aya having a few other things to deal with. Though she was a difficult little critter to kill, her host body was still flesh and blood and she needed time to focus on how to stop that power coming at her. Watching the concrete shatter as the concentrated power ripped through the air towards her, the demon just let out a little giggle and did a high gymnastic flip out of the way, using the rush of air to help move her backwards. Landing in a low crouch with a knee bent up to her chest and her other leg extended out and balanced on the ball of her foot, her hands pressed to the ground, she just stared with dark eyes at the oncoming outlash of power. The crack in the pavement and sidewalk came to an abrupt halt right in front of her, the energy just seeming to hit her and do nothing. The air in front of her wavered as if in a heat wave and she trembled lightly, taking in the concentrated power.   
  
"So the stories of the Shinigami are indeed true..." she said in a low purr, staring hard at Hisoka through the endless void of her irises, the very depths of an emotionless dark hell in her eyes. "Not impressed." Punctuating her sentence, she released the sharp tremor of power back at the Shinigami, ignoring Ran for the moment. She'd get him soon enough. First she wanted to have a bit more fun with the one who attacked her. And yes... oddly enough the little demon was having fun. The power cresting out from her was hardly as focused and concentrated as it had been when thrown at her from the jade-eyed Shinigami, but that was truly to be expected. She was a destructive creature and was able to throw large amounts of power around. She really cared very little for how much noise the onslaught of energy moving out from her made. Destruction in her mind and abilities was to be... large scale. And she could do large scale. She -liked- large scale.   
  
Feeling some of his stability return as the tight grip about the inner most part of his being was released, Ran thanked whatever was up there for the timing and quickly moved out of the way of the lash of uncontrolled nearly frenzied power. Not even wincing as it struck against a brick wall of a nearby building, he glanced over to the blond moving into a defensive pose, not sure if he was going to send another lash of power at the girl.   
  
Even though it had made her release whatever hold was on him... he didn't know if he could watch that hit the slender petite form of his dear sister. What if the demon just decided to let it all rip the body it was housed in apart? That was his sister's body... the one he'd done everything for. The thought that the summoning had utterly destroyed his sister and all that was left was her body and the demon that called that its own... that thought was not possible in his mind. She -had- to be alive. He couldn't have failed her. Allowed her to be struck down into a coma. Allowed her to be killed by a demon and her sweetness corrupted and destroyed by utter evil.   
  
"Hisoka!" he called out to the boy, his tones hard and authoritive. "You can't... hurt her." He knew how ridiculous that sounded and he glanced to the dark-haired female, watching her so he could see the next attack coming and hopefully avoid it. It had been bad enough to be killed by someone who looked like his sister. He didn't want it to happen again... or... if he even could be killed now that he was dead.   
  
Giggling too brightly for the dark look in her eye, Aya centered her gaze on Ran once more. "See. He -likes- me." She was about to try to just yank harder on his soul to get it to be hers as he was faltering on being able to harm her, when a similar feeling to what the redhead had felt lurched through her. Blinking, she shifted to press her chest against her knee still in the crouched position so she could move readily, feeling a burning sensation flare in her chest as Muraki's influence took hold. An utterly disgusting little presence of sweetness and innocence and something that just needed to be obliterated was stirring deep inside. Something that had been sleeping for so long and had been easy to push into an eternal dream state.   
  
The true Fujimiya Aya was waking up.   
  
  
  
**Footnotes:**   
  
New chapter, apologies for the delay. To make up for it, I'm going to upload more chapters than just this today.   
  
Read our ff.net profile for information about who we are and what AM is. 


	3. Part Three

**Disclaimer:** Yami and Weiß no ours. All we own is the wording of our writing, the characters belong to the people who own the copyright. Sue us and all you'll do is stop us from writing, thus saddening our readers. Please don't sue.   
  
**Angra Mainyu**   
  
_Arc Two - Supremacy - Part Three_   
  
----------------------------   
  
Giving into the temptation of the imported chocolates, Tsuzuki took one of the small confections and popped it into his mouth, 'mming' softly at the texture of the smooth chocolate and liquor center melting over his tongue. It was almost as good as brandied apple pie. Opening his eyes, he reached out to take another one when he stopped himself with a shake of his head. Closing his hand in mid-air, he sighed, shadows deepening the irises of his unusual colored eyes. Hisoka was out there, most likely trying to find Muraki and figure out what his connection was to their case. He should not be inside eating like this when the younger male was getting into all sorts of trouble without him. Even though he would deny it venomously, Tsuzuki was his partner and it was his responsibility to watch over him. That's what partners do.   
  
Besides, the chocolate wasn't going to go anywhere unless there were evil chocolate eating mice in the Koneko.   
  
Standing up, he finished buttoning his shirt leaving the top three buttons undone and tucked his shirt into his pants to look at least a little presentable for the public. Leaving his coat and tie behind on the couch so his hosts wouldn't think that he had abandoned them, Tsuzuki retraced his path to the door leading to the back. Stepping outside into the alley, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, humming lightly as he walked out onto the street. Now which way should he go? Towards the small tea shoppe on the corner or the candy store three blocks away in the opposite direction?   
  
Pondering the merits of his choices, the elder Shinigami glanced around before heading off to find Hisoka. The sight of a familiar blond head caught his eye, and with a shake of his head and a grin, Tsuzuki headed in that direction. It was indeed Hisoka standing there, looking none the worse for wear from his night of tracking and thinking. As he got close, he spotted the redheaded Fujimiya standing nearby. At least Hisoka wasn't alone last night in his wanderings.   
  
Feeling cheered by that, Tsuzuki was about to wave and probably say something inanely cheerful when he noticed the looks on their faces and the way they were staring at a dark-haired girl. Blinking, he paused, wondering why they had such odd looks on their faces.   
  
Watching as his strike was absorbed and reflected so swiftly, Hisoka continued to wonder exactly what Muraki had done to the body before him. The linked feel of the man's power between his form and the girl's was unmistakable, but the shape and affect it had on her in comparison to his own curse was a complete unknown. The simple action taken to return his strike, as clumsily aimed as the reflection had been, was enough to tell him that it was more than token power Muraki had lent to her.   
  
There was darkness at work in the girl, something that radiated from her aura as though to overwhelm him in one wave. Something that seemed obsessed on possession was hidden beneath the innocent surface, the want to own and destroy empathically hanging in the air thicker than the worst of fogs. There were few things that held that sort of dark longing for the end of all life, and all of those few things were demons.   
  
Well, it looked like they had found one of the creatures that the ritual had brought forth.   
  
Of course, the timing sucked. For all experienced purposes, he was facing down such a thing alone. As skilled as the assassin beside him was in matters of life and death, Hisoka doubted that the other could hold his own against a demon. When he had died and first been a Shinigami, there was little that the empath had been able to do either; even when partnered to Tsuzuki, at first, Hisoka had required the barriers that the other could create with ease in order to protect himself. It hardly to be expected that Ran could be much better in that sense, having only been dead a few days and knowing of it a few hours.   
  
That meant a basic one against one, which was never good odds against a demon. Perhaps for Tsuzuki - who could summon Shikigami to his aid - or Tatsumi - who could use a person's very shadow against them - it would be even odds, but for Hisoka it was not. He had empathic senses, barriers, and a very basic knowledge of curse mark sorcery, as taught by the Chief of the EnmaCho division - at best, those were insufficient weapons to use as an offense. However, being in a situation with bad odds was not going to stop him. He had felt the taint of the doctor on the girl and was determined to learn more.   
  
Feeling the brush of power - likely an off-shot tendril of his original strike - cut across the concrete beside him, hidden in the light cloud of dust that had arisen when the majority of reflected power struck the wall, the youth kept his eyes steadily on the demon-host. Definitely something to not underestimate, but with Ran's spoken words to not harm the girl, there weren't many other options open to him.   
  
"What the hell should I do then," he muttered under his breath, the clenching and relaxing of his hands the only sign of silent deliberations of what to do. Under a little duress from the situation, Hisoka had to restrain the sarcastically sharp remark that wanted to follow his cold words. It was no time to be snippy, despite his impatience otherwise; Ran had a point in wanting to keep the girl safe, if she was indeed the sister that the other's mind was remembering her to be.   
  
Of course, that brought him down to one problem: How to deal with the demon without damaging the host body.   
  
There was indeed a problem in that, since he could not easily pull the demon from the body, not while the original soul lay trapped. He had tried that before, and felt the power of the Reimaken technique reflected back at him when Tsuzuki's possessed powers broke his attempt. Pleasant was the furthest word from being suitable to how that had felt - it had been more like something was trying to tear one side of him from another, without care for his well being in the interim. It had given him a healthy respect of the rare technique, and one that held him at bay from simply casting it at the moment. Wasting energy on a body where control was absolute in favor of the possessor was not an intelligent action.   
  
That plan of action was on the verge of being discarded when two things happened: The burning in his body from the marks of Muraki's taint doubled in pain, causing him to drew in a sharp breath as pained jade eyes looked to the other cursed one, a clear feeling phasing from her as the form shuddered. It was a sudden warmth filling the nothingness, the true innocence behind the delicate young woman blossoming in a sudden burst of freedom. He could feel it stretching out, as though waking from a long, restful nap. It was the girl; the real girl and the soul that truly owned the body.   
  
Namely, it was what he had been hoping for.   
  
Forcing his breathing to be calm and steady, Hisoka shot Ran a warning look, to remain back for the moment. The reasoning behind it was left unsaid, the sudden option needing speed over explanation to be effective, but the warning remained. The other would be wise to stay away from him, in case the demon attempted to reflect what he was about to do.   
  
Closing his eyes, he let out the last breath he had taken, bringing his hands before him and beginning to speak softly, too quietly for any to hear. All of his concentration was focused inwards, drawing his spiritual energy forward to meld with the words of the sacred technique. Any who knew of what the Chief had taught Hisoka would have recognized the symbols the youth was forming with his hands to be none other than that of the Reimaken, the technique used to strip free a spirit. To say the least, it was a dangeerous technique, and one that Hisoka knew he would be lectured upon for casting 'frivolously' in a situation where risks could easily mean the end. That thought, though, was shoved to the side, his entire being needing focus upon the spell, lest his cast it imperfectly.   
  
Even those without empathy could have sensed the sudden shift in the air, a barrier of light attempting to form around Aya's body to seal it so that the technique could complete its required task. Whether or not the demon within had enough strength to break the field barrier was an unknown, a risk in the already uncertain and dangerous situation. Though, to free and know more from another one touched by Muraki was more than enough to validate the situation in Hisoka's eyes. Anything was worthwhile, if it meant gaining the upper hand against the doctor, even if that meant endangering his spirit and the girl's in order to get that upper hand.   
  
Keeping his jade gaze firmly upon the field, Hisoka summoned forth all of his willpower to keep the delicate technique in balance, a trickle of sweat touching his brow as the effort it required. There was not much longer, though, and he would have the chant spoken and would being trying to separate demon from human, without destroying the soul of the latter.   
  
"... ritsu, zen," he finished, white light gathering in his palms as an unknown wind curled around his form, rustling his clothing with its strength. "Reimaken!" Keeping his control as fine as possible, he spread his palms towards the girl before pulling them apart, each motion of his body now a delicate point and tool used to pull out the creature. The only hope was that the field held so that the Reimaken could be finished, and in that hopefully free the smothered spirit within.   
  
If not, well, then they were in trouble, and he'd likely be feeling a great deal of pain from the broken spell.   
  
--   
  
It was Ken who first heard the commotion going on outside. The screaming and yelling and whatnot. The only thing Ken could figure on was that the bad guys were making their move and Koneko was under attack. Again.   
  
"Omi, Aya took off last night and hasn't come back." It was Youji who glanced up from perusing the memo Omi had left in his hand. When Ken moved away to look out his window, Youji too finally noticed the racket outside.   
  
"Aya's out there. With that blonde kid and the other one from last night. And..." Ken blinked unbelieving of what he saw. He turned and glanced back at Youji and Omi's smaller frame outside Aya's door. "... they're attacking Aya-chan."   
  
The two wasted little time in getting themselves dressed. Youji ran to his room to throw on a dark turtleneck and slacks while Ken had opted for the t-shirt and jeans approach to fashion. Within minutes Ken was in the hall fastening his Bugnuk and Youji was tightening his watch. They might be Shinigami but they had no idea what that meant, so old, tried and true methods had to be used do deal with the chaos breaking out outside. The two glanced to Omi waiting for the signal to move. Without Aya giving the battle commands the next in command was Omi. They wouldn't move without his signal.   
  
The moments of time in which Youji and Ken rushed to dress were hardly wasted by Weiß's manager, who knew too well how dangerous it could be to have Koneko discovered by the enemy, much less attacked. With the advantage of having already donned clothing for the day, Omi only needed to pick up a weapon of sorts, beyond the sleeve of darts that was forever hidden on his person. Emerging again from his room, where he had disappeared to while the others hurried to readiness, he held tightly to the compound bow he had chosen, the strap holding the quiver fit neatly between his fingers.   
  
Far from the best choice for close combat, the bow had the power to drive through a pane of glass as cleanly as a bullet could, and carrying near that much force. His weapon choice alone could have alerted the others to the fact that he had no intention of joining the quartered battle. However, he equally did not intend to simply stand inside and do nothing. His skills lay in distance, and he was planning to exploit that.   
  
"Siberian, Balinese," he spoke, the tones of leadership clear in his voice, "go down there and find out what's up. I'm going to the roof to give cover if you need it." Unspoken was his second reason for heading up instead of down: The night before Hisoka had easily entered their building from the roof, leaving a broken door that was hardly the safest in terms of security. Whatever was going on outside of Koneko, Omi did not want to put too much attention to it and leave the roof unguarded. With the chaotic changes in their lives, everything had to be considered and covered for the safety of the team.   
  
Turning to head for the stairs, the sapphire-eyed assassin stopped and looked back at the two. "Take care, and take these," he added, tossing them each one of the miniature headsets he'd designed for Weiß usage in mission situations. Likely it would prove unneeded, but he wanted to be able to hear what was going on down there, so he could gauge their next move. Letting a smile touch his lips, to lighten the situation a bit, Omi waited for their confirmation. Once they were on the move, he would head up the stairs and the situation could then be dealt with.   
  
--   
  
This wasn't exactly what he expected to see this early in the morning. Especially before breakfast and learning more about the four Shinigami they were here to train. Especially since they hadn't even started to investigate the summoning of the two demons nor done any of the official Shinigami business for the case. But yet there was Hisoka trying to pull the demon away from the young girl, the spell's light familiar from his own experience with demon possession. And there was nothing he could do to help Hisoka with that spell.   
  
Well, nothing that he could do across the street from the battle.   
  
Thanking the powers that be that it was early morning so the streets were relatively free of traffic, Tsuzuki dashed across the street and stopped a few feet to the side of the glowing woman, glancing around quickly for witnesses before shrugging. That point was mute anyways, thanks to the sounds and sights going on at that moment. Really though, Shinigami were supposed to keep this sort of thing from coming out into the open. But Hisoka - and himself if he thought about it - didn't exactly stick to the rules.   
  
"Hisoka baka, not in public," Tsuzuki muttered then got to work. With practiced ease, he focused his spiritual energies, forming a barrier around the four of them, cutting them off from interference from outside influences. Adding a shade of illusion to it to make it look like fog, he took a deep breath and let it hiss out through his teeth. The barrier would not hold against several concentrated attacks, but it would work to keep anyone from getting hurt. And if Hisoka managed to drive the demon from the girl, then he would be of much better use than he was at that moment. He simply did not have the knowledge to cast the spell Hisoka was using, but he did have the twelve Shikigami.   
  
--   
  
Nodding as he watched Omi run up the stairs he lead the way down at a sprint to the front of the shop. He both felt and heard the blonde behind him. Vaulting over the last landing of stairs, Ken paused long enough to hit the automatic opener on the grate to the shop entrance. He didn't even wait for the door to open fully before he dove feet first to slide under the foot high opening.   
  
Not even taking the time to dust himself off, Ken sprang to his feet ready to go running at full speed into the foggy haze across the street.   
  
Youji wasn't far behind him and took a more leisurely approach to getting under the still rising grate, he merely ducked under it when it was high enough to do so. The blonde shook his head as he saw Ken run off half-cocked into the battle but something felt off. He looked up and down the street and noticed that the fog was just there, which meant it wasn't the usual morning fog that plagued the city from time to time from being so close to the bay. Green eyes narrowed on something else. A dead bird not far from the edge of that fog. Not needing any more information than that, Youji let his wire fly in the direction of Ken's feet.   
  
Ken was just about to the barrier when he felt his feet yanked from under him, just as he'd been about to jump into the fog. He glared and noticed the thin wire wrapped about his feet and sent a vicious glare to his teammate. Who simply pointed at the ground and the street. The brunette glanced at where Youji pointed and blinked. He inched away from the fresh corpse of the bird and noted that there was no other fog anywhere else.   
  
Pushing himself up to sit as he carefully unwrapped the wire about his feet, he felt Youji come up beside him. "That fog is solid isn't it."   
  
"Yep. Looks like that bird found out the hard way poor little thing. Prolly broke its neck when it collided with it. Unless there's some sort of energy in there. I don't think so, but then again... I'd be expecting to see some sort of crackling or something. I still don't suggest we touch it until we know more about it."   
  
--   
  
A low hiss fell from the demon's rosebud lips as the burning painful energy of the Reimaken moved through her, that and the outside influence both working to break the seal she had on the pure soul of the host body. The wavering of the air around her to an energy filled fog and the appearance of the form just nearby made a low trembling growl like a wild beast rather than a young girl sound from her lips. This was just not going well at all, and the confinement the barrier Tsuzuki created was just pissing her off. The demon just disliked being enclosed in tight confines with ones she did not chose to be close by, especially when those ones were working rather intently on separating her from her host body by the true one forcing her out.   
  
First things first...   
  
The seal she had created to hold back Aya-chan was strong... but the forces working to shatter it, she wagered they were strong enough to shatter even her seal. But it would take time... and it would be a time, which was better chosen by her. All the demon needed was a way to buy itself some time to get these circumstances a bit more to its liking. Curling its influence around the girl's half awake and timid self, Aya-chan a bit unsure of what was happening to her own body, the demon considered just squashing her back down asleep... but the difficult part of that was if she harmed the soul the host body could be harmed as well. Or if Aya-chan truly felt the evilness that was in her body she'd fight to wake up harder to force it out. So that forceful mushing of her back down was discarded for something a bit more ingenious. Using its powers even as the girl's body shuddered in pain from Hisoka's spell, the sleeping girl was attempted to be coaxed back to her peaceful little inner world of sweet memories and happiness. Instead of the chaos and confusion currently going on around.   
  
A light smirk formed on the girl's lips as she felt the girl retract back into safety. The seal she had to keep Aya-chan back and out of the way was a clever one. While some demons may choose to just have them in an endless nightmare, the demoness had chosen to give the girl a world of her happiest memories, safety and security and childhood innocence. All that sappiness that made the demon want to gag. But whatever worked, worked. Aya-chan could stay there a bit longer... the endless repeating dream would soon end since the seal had been cracked by reality, but it gave the demon a bit more time to work with turning things to its favor.   
  
Staying in her low crouched position, she closed her dark blue eyes and tremored her own power, the hold the Reimaken breaking. Opening her eyes, she pressed her hands down hard against the concrete and let out a long shrill scream, a crash of power flowing out in a perfect circle about her, rippling like waves on a pond of water, ever increasing as it moved out with the demon's own destructive force, powered by her anger. It smashed hard against the fog barrier Tsuzuki had created more for hiding from the public eye and physical attacks. There was truly very little that could stand against the demon's own powers, Shinigami barriers more created for physical protection than to hold up against something so destructive and not quite physical. She stayed crouched low and centered her gaze on Tsuzuki just a few feet away from her, still rippling out strikes of energy to shatter the barrier for the demon's own purposes.   
  
  
  
**Footnotes:**   
  
As promised, another chapter today. And one more coming, to make up for the uber-idle time.   
  
Read our ff.net profile for information about who we are and what AM is. 


	4. Part Four

**Disclaimer:** Yami and Weiß no ours. All we own is the wording of our writing, the characters belong to the people who own the copyright. Sue us and all you'll do is stop us from writing, thus saddening our readers. Please don't sue.   
  
**Angra Mainyu**   
  
_Arc Two - Supremacy - Part Four_   
  
----------------------------   
  
Mumbling to himself in German, Schuldig brought a hand up to shield his eyes, looking for the familiar form of Farf in the growing crowd of early risers. Just what he needed. To baby-sit a demoness who could take more than adequate care of herself and one psycho. Okay, so the Irishman wasn't entirely insane, but he wouldn't be winning any Pulitzer Prizes anytime soon for his genius either.   
  
Leaning against the brick wall of a storefront, the telepath dug a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He hummed softly to himself, an old German lullaby he could vaguely remember his Mama singing, as he continued to scan the crowd. The temptation to create a little havoc with the general sheepdom was great, but then he'd probably miss Farf altogether, and dealing with a pissy Brad for his transgression didn't appeal to him at all.   
  
_//Here, Farfie, Farfie, Farfie,//_ Schuldig crowed in his best irritating mental voice, taking a drag on the clove cigarette. _//Braddykins has a job for us to do.//_   
  
Good thing they were close to the Koneko too. No need to worry about catching a cab this early in the morning.   
  
That mental voice slid up against the chaos that was his mind, making itself known by the sheer ease that it wiggled close. No mere stranger or curious telepath, the mental call came from someone who knew enough to tread lightly in a mind that was full of pitfalls and mudslides. Then there was his name, or rather one of the hundreds of nicknames that others gave him just because the name he chose for himself was just bloody hard to pronounce fully at times.   
  
And since that one had to be near by or the message would be less clear, Farfarello looked around at the passing people, scanning for one who was taller with flame-red hair and a smart mouth. There, ahead of him, leaning against the wall with a clove in his mouth. Cutting easily around the people, he stalked over to Schuldig's side, one moon pale hand reaching out to brush his fingers lightly over the spill of flame-touched hair. There was something about redheads that reminded him of blood spilt.   
  
_//Am I a dog to be nipping at your heels now, Guilty One?//_ Farfarello replied. _//Or did Braddums wake up alone and wanting company?//_   
  
--   
  
The store sat closed, the light-up sign dimmed during the hours of non-business, to save power. That sign was being gazed upon by eyes of a brilliant amber, part of the puzzled look that had settled on the sunshine blonde's features as he tried to make sense of the building. For some reason it didn't look like the home of the four new Shinigami. Certainly they did live in a shoppe of sorts, and the name seemed familiar, but it appeared in the overall to be quite the bad cover for a set of assassins to live in. Brushing a hand through his unruly strands of long hair, Watari turned to glance at the bird-like bump on his shoulder, holding up a piece of paper with neatly typed directions to their new assignment on it. "Na, 003, does Koinu no Nekan ie sound like the place?" he inquired of his little friend.   
  
For his part, 003 looked at the piece of paper for a long moment, seeming in deep consideration as he ruffled his plump, feathered self to be more comfortable. After extensive deliberation, the miniature owl reached a decision and began to nibble on the piece of paper offered to him. He was hungry and clearly Watari was offering him food, how could he decline his best friend?   
  
With a slight irk, Watari withdrew his hand and examined the slightly nibbled paper. No damage seemed to be done, except the 003 drool that was half-smearing a few street numbers. Nothing key, since he had already factored in all the turns he would have had to take and had cut his time in half by simply flying straight towards the correct direction. That had been around four hours in the past, and his well-known lack of a sense of direction had lead him on a slight wild-Shinigami-chase around Tokyo in an attempt to find it.   
  
One last look was given to the aptly named Koinu no Nekan ie before the Shinigami turned away from the pet casket supply store and started down the street. That made for his second strike on finding the building. The first, a bakery by the name of Kotori no Kashiki ie, had seemed promising save for the lack of assassins operating it. The little old man had been quite indignant when the blond had inquired where he 'stashed' the four cute guys who 'worked' for him, leading Watari to believe that maybe he had found the wrong place.   
  
"Well, maybe it's... this way!"   
  
Cheering up again, Watari pointed down the street and grinned as he started towards his new destination. On his shoulder, 003 clapped enthusiastically for his partner's decision and posed as triumphantly as a fat little owl could. They were off again, to explore the unknown and find the new Shinigami; who knew what could lay around the next corner?   
  
--   
  
Taking the stairs two at a time, his step lighter than most could ever hope to have, Omi reached the roof in record time. Slowed by caution, he carefully searched the area directly around him and the door, keeping alert for possible intruders or attackers that might have been placed for a planned attack's purpose. There seemed to be nothing, but that did nothing to lessen his care as he moved carefully towards the ledge to observe the street below.   
  
Placing his quiver down, Omi knelt and stared at the scene stretched out on the street, sapphire eyes clouding in confusion as he attempted to comprehend what was going on. Not that there were many clues at the moment. Ken and Youji, he noted, had already made it downstairs and were halted at what appeared to be a pocket of fog, which might not have been noticeable with the Tokyo environs, but caught doubtless attention with the lack of accompanying pockets that would have come from the nearby bay. Catching the two assassins' hesitance to approaching the bubble, Omi could only assume that it was something to be considered dangerous, even in the slightest sense, until confirmation of what it was could be made.   
  
With his headset placed carefully against his ear, Omi drew out an arrow and fit it in the bowstring, his eyes searching for a target. "What's going on down there?" he asked evenly, knowing his microphone would pick up the words with ease.   
  
As he waited for a response, the sapphire-eyed youth looked around at surrounding buildings, for witnesses, or accomplices, to the situation. Catching a form dressed in which on the building opposite Koneko, he narrowed his eyes, trying to make out details. "There's a man on the roof opposite me," he continued, again directing his voice towards the headset's microphone. "Looks like he's watching you guys; I don't know if he's noticed me." Resting his compound bow comfortably in his hands, Omi drew back the arrow to a tight fit along the string and his hands, making sure the feathers were aligned properly should he decide to fire. For all purposes, he seemed relax, if wary; however, if things soured, he could and would have the string drawn back and loosed within a fraction of a second. Habit and training took over deliberation in an attack, something that had saved him countless times in the past. And, perhaps, it would again prove to be assistance that day, though he hoped that nothing so lethal would be needed to resolve what was going on.   
  
--   
  
Energy hit energy, the two very different forces hissing against each other. As the demon continued to hit the barrier with waves of energy, Tsuzuki had a couple of choices. To continue to feed it with his energy and protect the outside pedestrians or let the barrier go and use his energy for other things. At least he wasn't going to get tired out soon in using his own strength; Tsuzuki had a strong spiritual force that was a lot stronger than most people's. Probably it was one of the reasons that Muraki found him to be intriguing enough to pursue the Shinigami.   
  
The barrier shattered as he let it go, the dispatched energy falling like a gentle shower of rain around them. Not even pausing, Tsuzuki reshaped his spiritual energy into a lash of energy, whipping it at the possessed girl in a jagged line through the air, stirring the motes up with its passage. Maybe he could engage the demon's attention, thus making it more vulnerable to the Reimaken. Or at least drive it away so that he and Hisoka can make a better plan to engage the possessed girl and free her, then he can use the Shikigami to make sure that the demon would not be returning at all. But for now, he refused to use the Twelve that watched him to harm an innocent. Even though he could use their strength in order to bring the demon down a notch or two.   
  
Tsuzuki refused to get innocent blood on his hands ever again. Even if he had to work around his own instincts.   
  
As her circumferencing energy succeeded easily in shattering the fog barrier, Aya's deep blue eyes swept over those gathered, easily looking through the burning off fog that fell in a light mist of energy about them. One... two... three... four... five... nearby. And she could sense other strong souls nearby, two possibly. Her head cocked to the side, unearthly powers sensing something else but what not many could be sure. Midnight blue peered curiously at each of those gathered, observing so very much in just a bare second of observation. The ripples of energy still waved out from her before it finally stopped, her attention coming back to rest on Tsuzuki.   
  
So he wanted to play did he?   
  
She'd show them that's all they were capable of doing with her. Playing.   
  
Her sharp giggle cut through the air just as sharply as the whip that lashed at her in a jagged line, the girl's nimble form gone from her crouched position as the whip moved towards her, the long white dress she wore trailing in her wake. The girl moved fluidly through the air, discovering one advantage of having the sleeper deep inside partly awake even if very much repressed in her world little world. There was a plethora of raw powers now at her disposable... at least to a degree. The dark haired girl seemed to almost fly through the air before she came to perch atop a phone booth on the edge of the sidewalk, putting a bit more distance between herself and the Shinigami attacking her. "Is that all you have to impress a lady?" she said sweetly, batting her lashes as she stayed perched atop the stand, peering down at the dark haired male.   
  
It truly did figure that in a situation of such chaos and pain... the demonic being was indeed in its element of entertainment.   
  
Moving out of the way and staying out of the way as Hisoka had directed, easily realizing the more experienced Shinigami's expertise on this matter was far more than his own, Ran continued just looking over the happenings and trying to deduce something which he could do to aid. There was really nothing... More than a bit of unease moved through the redhead as the barrier had locked down around them, leaving Ran locked away from his team, unarmed, trapped with a demon, and with no true knowledge of the skills he possessed and how to control those to aid Weiß's guides. It was an odd sense of ... uselessness that flickered through the leader of Weiß for a moment but he quickly shoved it aside, knowing enough of needed mindsets in a chaotic stressful situation to know that feelings such as that would just lead to true uselessness. The battle lost even before it begun in ones mind.   
  
As the barrier holding him enclosed in a situation he was truly unsure of his use shattered like sparkles of dust, he couldn't help but be a bit relieved even it meant the demon with his sister's form was overpowering them. And with frightening ease. The girl's movement through the air with such ease were noted but his attention was held by something far more... pressing.   
  
Two things a bit more pressing really.   
  
The channels of energy pulsing towards himself and Hisoka at a fast rate, both rippling out dangerously from the demon's last position. There was the demoness' own chaotic energy which seemed to have its own soundless roar. Something that was familiar. Something like what had been the last thing Ran had felt... and heard in the very depths of his soul... rushing towards him before the last moments of his life. With that chaotic maddening energy she had sent out was something else... it was invisible but a powerful force, which had the appearance of a pane of glass that had been shattered and blown outwards, the little shards of glass reflecting bits of the light which had once been shining brightly through the window.   
  
And it was headed directly for Hisoka, and himself just a few feet away from the jade-eyed Shinigami. Moving with his usual grace and speed, looking hardly as if he were scrambling away from the danger lest it kill him... again... Ran came to a halt nearby where Ken and Youji were standing. Glancing back, his hand tightened into a fist as he caught sight of the younger male, still very much in the path of the reflected Reimaken and seeming unable to escape it. He felt his stomach clench tightly, memories surging... already his three teammates had been killed trying to help his sister... now another was going to be harmed when he had ceded to Ran's wishes to not harm the girl's physical body because of her relation to him.   
  
His hand trembled as he watched it approach Hisoka, willing it strongly to stop... not wanting another to be harmed trying to protect his sister. It seemed like such a futile desire but something seemed to start to form before just his eyes, a thin shimmering barrier before the boy that was formed of Hisoka's own will to fight. Ran's own slowly rising Shinigami specialty powers making themselves known as they were needed.   
  
  
  
**Footnotes:**   
  
_ Translations:  
Koneko no Sume ie - kitten in the many people house (rough; flowershoppe)  
Koinu no Nekan ie - puppy in the casket house (pet caskets 'r us)  
Kotori no Kashiki ie - little bird in the cake box house (bakery) _   
  
Again, as promised, another chapter. The last one for this moment, but more is coming. This arc is completely finished, and we're a third into the next one.   
  
Read our ff.net profile for information about who we are and what AM is. 


	5. Part Five

**Disclaimer:** Yami and Weiß don't belong to us. We're just writing about them, not making money.   
  
**Angra Mainyu**   
  
_Arc Two - Supremacy - Part Five_   
  
----------------------------   
  
Tearing his gaze from the blond walking across the street, Schuldig glanced at Farfarello with a raised brow. "A properly trained dog would not touch his master without their expressed permission," the telepath snapped, slapping the other man's hand away. "Something you do not have." With a glare, he turned back to watching the people walk by.   
  
The little lambs were, as of yet, blissfully unaware of the evil that walked among them. And he and Farfarello were being sent to keep an eye on her until Brad deigned to joined them for Gods knew what. What a message to send to something that could probably snuff their lives out without blinking: that it needed to be watched.   
  
Too many restrictions and a child was bound to rebel. Schuldig knew that from experience and he doubted it was any different for a newly raised demon. However, an order from Crawford could not be ignored. So, with no small amount of trepidation, the German pushed away from the wall and began walking towards the Koneko no Sume ie.   
  
_//Braddums wouldn't know what to do with 'company' if it jumped up and bit him in the ass,//_ he remarked, glancing back at Farf, making sure the man was following him. _//No, our job is to keep a discreet eye on our demoness and to ensure that she remains unharmed. As if anything could touch her.//_   
  
--   
  
The technique had been cast imperfectly.   
  
That was all that Hisoka could think of as the light-formed barrier around the host body shattered, sending the energy out and away - or, rather, back straight at him. It was all he truly had time to think, considering the speed at which the energy was returning. There was no time to even utter a curse, or even move away before it would arrive, carrying with it the separating feel of the spell he had cast. At least the other, Ran, was out of the way of it, leaving only himself to bear the brunt of the blow. That was a small comfort, but present nonetheless; no one deserved to pay for his failure in casting the Reimaken but himself.   
  
Letting his balance falter back for a moment, Hisoka followed that quickly with his weight, resting one foot a half-step behind him in an attempt to brace himself. Instinctively he pushed his hands to the front, as though to shove back the strike before it could hit, and a barrier flickered into existence, parting the dust particles that were still settling over the ground from the demon's prior attack. His defense, however, did little against the reflection, which simply passed through it with the ease of water through a sift. There was little a Shinigami barrier could do against pure energy, and even that effect was far different when the energy was the caster's own, sometimes taking that defensive energy and adding it to its own. It was akin to trying to douse a fire with a flame-thrower, and equally as ineffective.   
  
Seeing the flicker of the barrier's collapse, Hisoka narrowed jade eyes and held himself steady, crossing his arms before his face in an attempt to hold back the damage that was the Reimaken. Feeling the stiff breeze that was carried back with that power, the youth almost faltered a step forward at the lack of the reflection following it. Staring intently forward, he noticed the faint shimmer of a second barrier, something clearly from another hand meant to help him. Had he the time, Hisoka might have tried to discern who that assistance was from, but time was not his luxury to have. He could feel the press of the reflected technique creeping closer, pressure in the extreme being thrown on the barrier still standing.   
  
Then, with a snap of swiftly vacated space, the barrier collapsed, taking with it a portion of the Reimaken's force while the remainder slammed hard into the Shinigami. Off balance from the curious pause that the barrier had given, Hisoka was thrown off his feet, hitting the ground some distance back from his former position. Such was just as well, since it dropped him from the path of the last trace of the Reimaken, reducing by half what he would have felt had he stayed standing to endure the entirety of it.   
  
Feeling, rather than seeing, the dust settled around him, his shoulder hurting from hitting the cement and trying to tear it up with his simple flesh, Hisoka simply lay still for a moment. To say the breath was knocked out of him was an understatement - it was more like half of his soul had been knocked free, and he needed a few minutes to gather it back together.   
  
"Don't hurt her," he muttered softly under his breath. "Great plan..."   
  
--   
  
With the barrier now gone and falling around them, Youji was finally able to see what was going on. He paled as he saw Aya... both of them and their two new guides caught in the middle of what looked to be a fight. It was pure and utter chaos falling around them. Aya-chan was... NOT... Aya-chan that much was clear to him, the fiendish smirk, the wave after wave of power coming at them and going to her. He could see the anguish in Aya's face as he felt powerless to do anything. He knew there'd be a matching look on Ken as he watched his crush look helpless.   
  
As Hisoka fell back, and the possessed girl still giggling as if they were mere toys, Youji did something that was rare even for him.   
  
He lost his temper.   
  
He could count on one hand the times he'd let his temper and his carefully bottled emotions escape him. Once had caused him to hit Ken. The other had led him to kill Asuka.   
  
And now...   
  
He ran full tilt into the middle of the battle, intent on stopping it by any means necessary. This had to stop now. They were over powered and out matched and as of right now they couldn't fight what they didn't know. And the demon before them was a complete unknown to him. He didn't know if they could die again, but he'd already been killed by one psychotic demon. He didn't need to make that twice in the space of just as many days.   
  
Youji ignored Ken's attempts to stop him and before he knew it his wire was in his hand and he felt a heat burning around him and he did the only thing that came naturally at that moment. He shouted his desire at the top of his lungs.   
  
"STOOOOP!!!!"   
  
And then there was silence.   
  
Ken stood and looked around him. The sudden silence was almost too loud. His hands rose to his ears, then fell slowly at the absurdity of the gesture. He felt caught in half a breeze like he was only half there, but to look at himself, he seemed fine. Pale sea green eyes looked up at the sky and blinked. His jaw dropped as he saw a bird hovering in mid flight above his head. He moved to the side just in case the bird decided to shit on him. Beyond that though, the clouds had ceased their movement.   
  
Across the street a woman was throwing her trash out the window the mess stuck in its decent to the pavement. Next door a shop was opening its owner sweeping the walk in front of his door. The cloud of dust at the end of his broom no longer moving.   
  
In fact... nothing moved. Nothing human anyway, for he could move. Eyes wide he looked at his friend. "What the fuck did you just do?!"   
  
Youji shrugged, equally perplexed by what had just happened. He simply shrugged. "Fuck if I know."   
  
--   
  
Shoulders rolling back into a shrug, Farfarello walked slightly to the side and behind Schuldig, a white shadow trailing in the German's wake. Pale lips curled back from equally pale gums, a soft chuckling escaping his sharp teeth. Whether it was laughter towards the snappish reply of his teammate or laughter at the absurdity of their situation, Farfarello was not going to explain. As much as he enjoyed seeing the last of hope dying in his victim's eyes, he enjoyed more to keep people off balance. Mind games were just as fun as physical games and left no trace while physical games did.   
  
If he was stupid enough to leave a trace that was. Just because he was insane did not mean that he was dumb as well.   
  
_//You are over-estimating the power of the Demonchild, Schuldig,//_ Farfarello replied, his voice cold and still. _//There are always forces stronger, and powers much higher. Instead of being brash, one should be smart and outthink those that may be better. The kittens we let win, but even so, they did give us a good run for those wins. There is always something better.//_   
  
His movements slowed, his single brandy colored eye narrowing, his head rising as he all but sniffed the air. Reaching out a hand, he brushed it across Schuldig's neck. That part that knew when Kritiker was spying on them and where to find Birman from all the other cars parked in the driveway of the Este hospital was awaking.   
  
_//I would advise not to move much closer...//_   
  
--   
  
At least now he had a little breathing space Tsuzuki thought, recoiling the whip of energy back to him. Just enough of a pause so he can do something to help his partner whose fallen form he could see from the corner of his eyes. It did not look good for them though whatever he did, Hisoka was down for the moment while the new Shinigami's did not even had the basic training to harness their own innate talents. It seemed like a loosing battle but they were so good at them, winning when others thought they could not. They would get out of this one too.   
  
"Not really, but I doubt that you are a lady that needs impressing," Tsuzuki said lightly, readying another energy whip to keep her off balance and from truly trying a real attack. Also to gain enough time for Hisoka to regain his feet and try the Reimaken again.   
  
Then a voice raw with anger shouted a single word into the tense battlefield air, freezing everything. Or almost everything.   
  
Blinking at the girl on top of the phone booth, her dark hair in mid-motion from her movements, the fabric of her dress as still as a piece of still life, Tsuzuki glanced over at the two new arrivals to the little battle. Time. One of them could do something about time. But with newly awakened powers, they did not last long until control and understanding was gained. So... Time for a change in plans.   
  
First thing was the possessed girl. From seemingly nowhere, Tsuzuki held a strip of kanji on paper between his forefinger and thumb of his right hand. An ofuda, his particular skill that few others could match in the Shinigami ranks, like the Twelve that he could also call upon when he needed their strength. Murmuring the words to focus his need into the strip of paper, he threw it at the still form of the dark haired girl. Bands of light wrapped around her, starting from where the ofuda clung to the skin of her neck into a web work of bindings to hold the girl still once the time freeze ended. Hopefully that would give Hisoka the needed time to try to separate the demon from the girl.   
  
--   
  
"Interesting," Tatsumi said softly, pushing up his glasses as he headed out to Hisoka who was still on the ground. Immaculately dressed in a fine brown suit, the treasurer of the Summoner's Division held his usual formal air as he did what he did best - appear out of nowhere. Although pleasantly surprised with the power base Youji had just displayed, Tatsumi didn't seem to show it outside of his one word comment. Perhaps if they were meeting under better circumstances, he would be more polite and compliment the blond on his unintentional but beneficial use of his powers, however the situation was less than agreeable and the Shinigami were already treading on shaky ground. As Tsuzuki knew, Tatsumi only interfered when the situation seriously required it of him. The short-time partner of the treasurer would also know that when Tatsumi -did- get involved in an affair such as this, he was a dangerous person to tick off and for good reason. The man's mean streak could be as great as his power. This time the treasurer felt the need to offer his assistance immediately as Muraki was in the vicinity, Weiß was still inexperienced and Watari had yet to arrive. All was not boding well for the Shinigami.   
  
The shadow master mentally sighed as he thought of Watari and his inability to follow common logic. He would bet money (well, perhaps if he was extremely drunk) that the annoying doctor had found his own way of following the carefully laid out directions Tatsumi had given him earlier. 'Idiot... I am surrounded by idiots...' he muttered in his head as he came to kneel beside Hisoka.   
  
"Kurosaki-kun, you have outdone yourself," he said, looking down on him with more concern than scorn as he offered the boy his hand. The fact that he had tried this at an inopportune time could be addressed later when Tatsumi had all of the facts. Right now he just wanted to make sure those on his payroll weren't getting their heads bashed in by the schoolgirl from hell and the silver haired pervert on the roof.   
  
--   
  
Any lesser man would have been fighting for some semblance of understanding and tranquility to return to the situation so they could figure out what was going on, and then decide which way to go. Ran just simply watched all of the events happen at rapid fire before his eyes, his fist unclenching as the barrier he'd inadvertently created before Hisoka shattered, some of the energy dissipating from the force of the shockwave of the reflected Reimaken, the rest returning from whence it came. Hisoka's own pure spiritual energy. He wasn't sure quite what he'd done other than wish something like that would happen, but it could be further inquired upon once some calmness returned to their lives.   
  
And then it all just... stopped.   
  
Peculiar. Not truly all of it, but as he saw his blond teammate rush out and scream out, Ran had the sensation of things slowing down around him, but not himself included. It was almost like watching a movie which is shifting into the dramatic slow motion effect. One is just watching it happen, not being affected by it at all. Another thing he didn't know why it happened, or how it happened... he -really- disliked being unaware of what was going on. At least his visible teammates were unaffected by the sudden apparent time freeze. Seeing the dark brunette approach the fallen blond unnerved him, being completely unaware of who Seiichiro Tatsumi was. But since he was unaffected by the momentary pause in the life around them... and the only one who did seem to be actually frozen was the demon housed in his sister.   
  
Deciding to take that as a good omen for the newly arrived male, Ran found something else that needed his attention and his observation was now highly keened on a certain fact. He could clearly see Ken and Youji... so where was their youngest and the longest-term member of Weiß? A quick scan of the street confirmed to him what he was already aware of, Omi wasn't down here. Knowing the boy's specialty in the weaponry he chose Ran instinctively glanced up to see if he had chosen a higher and safer vantage point to observe from, while the closer range members of Weiß came out to the street. Sure enough he caught a quick glimpse of a head of blond hair peeking out from over the edge of the roof, Omi atop the Koneko and watching what was happening, crossbow most likely in hand.   
  
Which brought a sudden realization on Ran that he muchly disliked... in this entire situation he'd been unarmed. A rare thing really for him but he'd followed Hisoka after just sitting out on his fire escape. Glancing at Youji and Ken for a moment the redhead turned and went into the alley quickly to move up the fire escape to join Omi on the roof, that being the quickest way up which still left him able to watch the proceedings and not seem as if he were just abandoning the conflict.   
  
Perched on the ledge of the roof, the long compound bow still held ready in his hands, Omi had a rather bird's eye view of the entire situation as it unfolded. Even without a reply to his status request, the sapphire-eyed archer was able to piece together bits of what was happening. Not quite enough to realize the source of half the paranormal occurrences being loosed before Koneko, but enough to know what each bit of oddness was doing and who it seemed to be. Still, from his vantage point, there was little that he could do to help the situation. Aya-chan was not high on his list to shoot with an arrow, despite the oddities of what she appeared to be doing, or capable of doing for that matter. Until he had confirmation from the others, he did not want to risk the safety of a teammate's sister.   
  
Bringing his soft blue gaze back up to the roof, he narrowed his eyes curiously at the other male, the white-clothed one he'd reported earlier. The man's long coat had seemed to halt in the air, mid-ruffle flared out partly from his body, which held an equal stillness to it. It was as odd as watching the bird below, wings flapping mere seconds before, suddenly halted as neatly as a pause pressed to a DVD in play. What exactly had happened was up for debate, but he had suspicions that it had something to do with time.   
  
Of course, the concept of time stopping was just absurd.   
  
Wasn't it?   
  
Shaking his head, the youth looked to the street again, half-dismissing the other rooftop observer as held back for the moment. Catching sight of a flash of red, he easily spotted Ran's ascent up the fire escape. Smiling softly, whether it was relief that the other was okay, or perhaps relief that someone was coming to join him on the rooftop and increase security in that sense, Omi leaned back on his heel. Holding to the bow and notched arrow with one hand, a feat managed through much practice, he removed the headset from his ear and placed it on the ledge beside him. Another second was taken to remove the unfamiliar weight of the gun claimed from Hisoka the night before, placing it by the headset. Given how Ran was leaving the street level, without orders or notice, Omi assumed that the redhead had no weapon of use within those close quarters. All of Weiß knew, on varying levels, that it was sometimes better to withdraw when unarmed than to fight the losing battle. Being sensible, Ran was probably holding to that thought and moving to where he would be of more use.   
  
Settling again, room still left for Ran to join him, Omi again fit his hands to the bow, drawing the string to a light pressure. His aim wavered between Aya-chan's form and the newcomer below, uncertain of exactly what was going on. Without his headset, he couldn't ask for another report of what was going on; then again, given the silence of earlier, he figured that the other two had less of a clue than he did. Wasting breath confirming that was not a priority either.   
  
Hearing the slight creak as the metal ladder to the roof was reached, and catching the light step that belonged to the katana-wielder, Omi glanced to the side. "What's going on down there?" he asked quietly, slight confusion making a home in his tones.   
  
  
  
**Footnotes:**   
  
And here begins the upload of the rest of this arc. Be happy and proud of us, we're so efficient lately. ^^; 


	6. Part Six

**Disclaimer:** If you haven't figured it out by now, we don't own Yami not Matsuei OR Weiß Kreuz. We're just dedicated fans making some written tribute to the shows' greatness.   
  
**Angra Mainyu**   
  
_Arc Two - Supremacy - Part Six_   
  
----------------------------   
  
Interesting, and on so many levels.   
  
Muraki found the situation unfolding before him of extreme intrigue to his curious thirst for knowledge and power. His little puppet had displayed surprising skill in casting the spirit separation technique, displaying a level of ability he'd previously thought impossible of the boy's patience, or lack therein. Seeing that thought proven wrong awoke a certain hunger in the doctor, to perhaps reclaim the boy for his own uses. A properly puppeted Reimaken could be excellent for finding the souls he needed in his research, and to feed the source of his own power. As a plus, the young Shinigami had already once proven how delicious he could be in more sexual terms, and could perhaps be a tool in that sense as well. Even break the youth's spiritual will through that, make him a perfectly loyal doll...   
  
However, he could not quite act on that curious hunger at the moment, for a number of reasons. One was simple that there were too many present for him to steal away his little prize, no matter if he held great desire for it or not. Two was that the annoying enforcer of EnmaCho had decided to make an appearance, and those powers over shadow forces were a rival match of his own. He felt not like testing his mettle against that forthright, over-awed accountant; not at the moment, anyways. Three was that something unexpected had happened, without a sense of warning. The freezing of time was noticed well by the doctor, who was suddenly forced into a very unusual position. Usually he held power's sway over anything he was witness to, and the sensation of no longer being able to move his body, lest it break the laws of time itself and bring paradox down on him.   
  
Not to mention that he, the knowledgeable and similarly powered Muraki, could not seem to break that grip held on him. Alive in most senses of the word, the doctor was an unaccustomed victim to the powers of time itself. While not fully held to it, he was also not completely free from it. The otherworldly powers housed within him allowed his mind to remain free, but his body was human, leaving only his unnatural eye able to move in his forced still observation.   
  
What an annoyance; he would have to find and kill the little fly who had created it.   
  
--   
  
When Youji shouted out his wish, the area around them all freezing suddenly, Hisoka felt an odd sense of lightening. With the flow of time held at bay, the sheer number of people that could influence his emotions with their own were gone, held still by whatever it was that had happened. Amidst the confusion of the world, growing as the situation worsened, it was like a bright light cutting through the fog before the mist could lose him for all time.   
  
Feeling the bits of torn flesh heal over as quickly as they had been torn open by the cement path his shoulder had created, Hisoka slowly managed to sit up, raising a hand to rub at the healed skin. Feeling a bit of wetness, he dropped his hand, staring calmly at the crimson fluid there. The sight of blood hardly concerned him, in such a small amount at least, since he could recover from it with ease. It was an annoyance, though, to know that there was likely a patch of ripped cloth mixed with blood on his shoulder now, likely ruining his favorite jean jacket.   
  
Blinking as a hand was extended to him, Hisoka looked up into deep tones of Tatsumi's eyes. Slight surprise wavered in his jade depths, quickly masked by the cool distance he preferred, along with the odd level of respect he awarded to the chief and Tatsumi alone. Raising his unbloodied hand, the young Shinigami accepted the help, leaning heavily on Tatsumi as he got to his feet with difficulty. Despite the support, Hisoka found it difficult to stand, a great deal of his physical strength sapped through the drawing forth of Reimaken, and the force of the reflection.   
  
"I'm not done yet, Tatsumi-san," he said softly, trying to regain a sense of balance as his legs threatened randomly to fail under his weight. "There's a person in there... and she knows Muraki. I have to get to her, I need to recast the Reimaken... now."   
  
Catching the concern that the other held for how he had extended himself, Hisoka tried to shut himself off from feeling the response to his latest statement. Disapproval was expected, the youth knowing well that few supported or understood the lengths he would go to in order to find some weakness or key bit about the doctor who was responsible for his death. Whatever the reaction was, Hisoka was just as determined to cast the technique, his determination too deeply founded to care any longer.   
  
--   
  
With brilliant amber eyes focused intently on the piece of paper Tatsumi had given him, directions to Koneko, Watari lacked a certain sense of observation that would have alerted him to the sudden half of time. Free from the apparent affects, his status as Shinigami somehow untouched by time, his entire concentration remained locked on the sheet of paper, and his theory that it was, perhaps, written in a sort of clever code to keep suspicion from arising. Suspicion of what or where hardly mattered to the bright-natured Shinigami, he simply took pleasure in the idea that, perhaps, it was a secret code meant for him to figure out. Tatsumi could be tricky like that, after all. Right?   
  
Turning the paper upside down in his hands, Watari narrowed his eyes, willing the pattern held in every code to emerge before him. However, a sudden collision with an unlucky young fellow in the street disrupted that willed search, sending the scientist stumbling a few steps back, clutching - or rather crunching - the paper in surprise. About to apologize for the mishap, Watari turned his vibrant eyes to the victim, and promptly blinked curiously. The person he'd run into, a young Japanese male (what else could be expected of Tokyo?), was staring straightforward and unmoving, as though he did not know he had been struck.   
  
At that point in time, Watari finally noticed the furious wing beating 003 had been giving him to get his attention about the time-frozen matter. Patting the fluffy feathered owl lightly on the head, to stop the 'assault' if nothing else, Watari pondered what this meant. A glance to his watch revealed the details of it, the second hand stopped as perfect as though the battery had died - which was, thankfully, impossible, seeing as the batter was one of his inventions and ran more on his energy than anything else.   
  
Rather than be puzzled by this, Watari grinned. "I was right!" he announced to the still world, jumping into the air and letting flight take him. Without witnesses, the golden-haired male had no problems with flight. Of course, Watari generally had zero problems with using his Shinigami-given levitation in public, something that he generally got scolded for when performed in a hurry or moment of glee.   
  
Taking advantage of frozen time, Watari rose high in the air, grinning at the triumph of knowing at least one of his assumptions about the new Shinigami powers had been perfectly on the mark. The ability to distort time would indeed be useful, and interesting to train. It did not take him long to spot the Koneko, the two assassins moving on the roof catching his attention.   
  
"See, I knew we were close!" he announced to 003 as he headed towards the building. His next observation made him pause, amber eyes catching on the pure white of much infamy. The presence of Muraki was surprising, in the least, and something not factored into his calculations.   
  
Odd, very odd. Well, that just meant he had a reason to investigate.   
  
--   
  
"I think you stopped time." Ken was still oddly perplexed by everything just stopping. Also his general confusion was a bit overwhelming. His eyes followed Aya with a bit of sadness and regret at having attacked him the previous night, but he shrugged it off. If he had a chance to apologize later for it he would. When he realized where the man was headed he remembered Omi's early directive for information. In the wake of Youji's weird... thing he'd forgotten about it. Lowering the mic down, Ken answered the boy but it came out as Ken's responses usually came out. Half babble half information, all in an over-excited rush. "Aya-chan is down here. I think she's possessed cuz she's being a total crazy bitch and Aya looks like he wants to cry. Sheesh this is gonna be confusing, Aya and Aya. So the blonde kid - I forgot his name - threw some Ramen at her and she threw it back. The other guy the Tuba something or other made this fog thing but Aya broke it too and he came at her with this electrified whip thing like Youji's wire thing, but then Youji charged out there all cock-assed. You'd think he was me or something, then yelled stop and everything did."   
  
Standing there a bit confused, Ken raised his hand to scratch his head. "Wonder if I can do anything cool like that..." Deciding then that he was -going- to attempt to do something, Ken crouched lightly, squeezed his eyes and fists shut and started grunting. From the casual observer he looked as if he were in a concentrated effort to relieve constipation. He took another deep breath, and grunted in extreme effort, his face turning a few shades of red.   
  
Just when he thought nothing would come of it, he passed a bubble of gas from his ass at the same time a sudden tremor rocked the earth. The sudden shift of the ground in a rather large-scale force sent him on his butt. Ken blinked and calmed, the tremor doing the same. Teal eyes went wide with surprise as his jaw fell open. "My farts cause earthquakes!! Coooool."   
  
The eldest member of Weiß blinked at what he'd done, and just looked around more than a bit slack jawed. All he wanted was for everyone to stop attacking. Not stop the frickin' universe. It seemed to have partially the desired effect. At least Aya was still. He wondered for how long though or if he could put time the way it was. He had no idea if he had to do it or if it would wear off or what.   
  
While at the peak of his mental conundrum he felt the ground start trembling under his feet and smelled the rather foul odor that went with it. Both of them enough to send the blonde to his own butt. At Ken's statement he just blinked with that ever present smirk on his features. "If that's true, God help us all when you have diarrhea." He laughed softly and got to his feet dusting himself off. "I sincerely hope that bout of flatulence was due to exertion and not some underlying ability. That would be really gross."   
  
--   
  
Jerked rudely awake after too late a night, Nagi snarled silently. He didn't WANT to wake up. Briefly he entertained the thought of slamming the door in Brad's face, but before the telekinetic part of his brain could latch onto that and carry it out, he dismissed the possibility. Forbearing to reply, he rolled out of bed instead and began to pull clothes on, snatching them up from piles on the floor. With a shake of his head, his dark hair settled into place, such as it was.   
  
Awake, if not alert, the teen stumbled into the too-bright hall, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. There was coffee somewhere, but Brad's tone had indicated a need to hurry, which meant no coffee and thus no caffeine boost for Nagi. Suppressing a sigh and reinstituting his careful facade, Nagi went in search of Schwarz's erstwhile leader.   
  
A traveling mug of heated coffee made specifically to the teen's taste was pressed into Nagi's hands by the elder assassin, Brad's lips pressed firmly together as he headed for the express elevator. While every precious second counted, the precog knew enough of his team member's habits to know that coffee would allow Nagi to focus better on the problem once they got to the Koneko.   
  
Ushering Nagi ahead of him out of the apartment and to the elevator, Brad made sure their door was secured behind them before calling the express elevator to their floor. Nice thing about having a penthouse suite was access to services others were unaware of.   
  
"There is a possibility that we may be facing Weiß," he explained as the elevator doors slid open. "As well as meet with a man who feels the need to become our next Elder. I want you to be fully alert and keep on your toes, Nagi."   
  
--   
  
_//Why not?//_ Schuldig asked, absently swatting Farfarello's hand away. One of these days he was going to use one of the man's own knives to cut a hand off. Maybe then the warning to not touch would sink in. Then again... this was Farf he was referring to, so it might not.   
  
At least the Irishman hadn't ordered him to not move closer. That's what Crawford would have done, and Schuldig would have moved right out into the open in a childish display of rebellion. Anything to ruffle the American's feathers. However, with no Crawford in attendance, the redhead actually held back, instead reaching out with his mind to discover the source of Farf's warning. And couldn't have been more glad he'd done so.   
  
While thinking it odd that the older man had told them to go to the Koneko, Schuldig really hadn't given it much more thought than the man had a morbid sense of humor. Which had been immediately over ridden by the thought that it was inhumanly possible for the sour puss to have -any- sense of humor at all. Period.   
  
So maybe the demon had been curious to find the place where its host's only brother had spent the last of his troubled years before perishing at the temple. That had made much more sense to him. Until the telepath had caught the faint traces of clover honey, cinnamon, chocolate, and strawberries, especially the strawberries, that he had associated with the minds of Weiß.   
  
Schuldig whirled around to face Farf, his surprise clearly written across his face. _//The kitties are alive... Do you think Crawford knew?//_   
  
--   
  
Stepping near silently onto the roof save for when his weight pressed the metal ladder against the brick wall, aided by the light tremor that moved through the ground from Ken's... exertions, Ran moved over to join his younger teammate by the edge of the roof. Noting the gun Omi had obtained last night when Hisoka had thrown it down, Ran picked up the slender handgun from the ledge on the edge of the roof, running his fingers over the magazine clip. It felt assuring to once again have a weapon in his hands even though it wasn't his usual weapon of choice. Pale fingers easily removed the magazine to check how much ammunition he had with his borrowed weapon. Seeing the safety on he wagered that there was already a bullet in the chamber, so he didn't load it as he replaced the magazine.   
  
His eyes glanced over the street below, finding the scene not much changed from how he left it just moments ago, the climb a short one and his speed of the utmost priority in all of this. The bit of white nearby caught his attention and he looked over to see Muraki, his long overcoat still frozen in mid-wave from the winds atop the building, frozen in time somehow. Even as he watched, the feeling of slowness around him dissipated and things continued their even flow as if they had never been interrupted.   
  
"I'm not fully certain..." he replied to Omi even as the discarded mic set clicked softly as someone tried to transmit a message. Anyone hearing the redhead speak those words would know how hard they came, the katana expert of Weiß almost always somehow one step ahead of the game with his observation skills, always knowing at least something by fact or intuition. "The only thing I truly know is we have found the host of the second demon summoning... and it is none other than my sister. Last night I followed Hisoka as he left our residence to gain more information as I might to help with all of this... and when we returned this morning, we found her observing Koneko no Sume Ie. She turned and... attacked me in a manner, thus beginning this when Hisoka averted her attention by attacking her." He frowned softly, looking down at the slight form of his sister still frozen atop the phone booth, the bands of light from whatever Tsuzuki had done to her seeming to still hold her in place. "I asked him not to harm her... he seemed to understand and wished to comply. He attempted something, a long whispered chant and a wave of energy, directed to Aya, but it was reflected back somehow."   
  
Letting his hand rest on the ledge, he tightened his fingers as he gazed down. More details would be told to Omi of the bits he discovered last night, but for now that was all he could tell the manager of Weiß so their attentions could stay mainly on the battle on the streets below. Even as he awaited Omi's response and the next actions to happen, his gaze wandered to the man dressed in white on a rooftop nearby, violet eyes narrowing on Muraki.   
  
--   
  
_//He might have known,//_ Farfarello replied, moving forward once again. He needed a more accurate feel of what was going on a few blocks away. _//Crawford never actually tells us half of what he knows, only to let us find out on our own. Maybe in arrogance or maybe so we are kept on our toes.//_   
  
Eye the color of frozen amber gazed over the scene before them, pale lips pulling back from his teeth in a feral grin. There they were. Two of Weiß on the ground plus three he had never seen before and their Demonchild trapped in a glowing webbing of an unknown source. Nostrils flaring as he tried to catch a hint of their scents to see if he knew them before, Farfarello then glanced up, noting the two other Weiß on the one building and the Doctor on top of the roof.   
  
_//The question is not whether Weiß survived but who their new friends are and why the so-called doctor is watching.//_   
  
Copying Farfarello's actions, Schuldig shielded his eyes against the morning sun as he glanced up as well. The doctor could barely be made out from where he stood, not that he really cared. Schuldig had taken an instant dislike to Muraki. The man exuded vileness. Reminded him far too much of some of his 'instructors' in Rosenkreuz. Those, and he used the term teacher loosely, who had used pain and fear and suffering as a means to get their wards to learn. The kind of people Schuldig had thought Schwarz were working to free themselves from.   
  
Soooo... what would have been the point in defying Este, only to fall into the hands of the same sort of people? Or worse even? To once again be seen as nothing more but a tool to use to achieve their goals. Been there, done that, did -not- want to do it any more.   
  
Shifting, Schuldig sought out the familiar face of his favorite kitten. Up there on the roof, the sun dancing amongst the golden blond locks. Once or twice before the telepath had entertained the idea of approaching Omi under the proverbial 'olive branch', but the notion had been buried deep before it could really take root out of fear of a beating or something worse for disobedience, for not remaining loyal to those he owed his very existence too. An idea that sparked to sudden, brilliant life at the thought of having to serve Muraki forever.   
  
Now focusing his gaze on the demon, Schuldig idly wondered if he could pull it off. The biggest challenge he could ever recall facing in his life: persuading his enemies to grant him sanctuary against a future that promised to be sheer hell if Crawford accepted the so-called alliance with Muraki. He was just too tired to continue on the way he was going.   
  
--   
  
Tsuzuki's smile was threatening to split his skull at the appearance of Tatsumi on the scene. With a wave and a shout of his name, he turned his attention to his two friends, knowing that the immobility spell should hold easily during the time freeze without his attention. Feeling the press of time-frozen air against him, Tsuzuki headed right for the other Shinigami, wanting to be close to them so that they could pull their talents together.   
  
It was a good plan, but the smelly demonstration of Ken's powers also knocked the Shinigami off his feet. Nose wrinkling at the accompanying smell, Tsuzuki eyed the assassin, shaking his head at him. And people thought he was a bad Shinigami when it came to his eating. He regained his feet and moved at a more sedated pace towards Hisoka and the others.   
  
Then time returned to normal.   
  
Muttering that everything had to happen long before breakfast, the sable haired male folded his arms across his chest and pouted at the immobile girl. Really. Why couldn't the evil monsters of destruction at least wait until after breakfast before trying to attack and kill people? What was with them and attacking when he was hungry?   
  
Shaking out of his pout, the Shinigami sighed, flicking a hand through his hair, getting ready to defend himself and his friends again. Missing meals always made him slightly grumpy.   
  
As the normal flow of time returned, with it came a highly annoyed and thankfully withheld demoness. Not even the time it took to blink had passed for her and yet many things in her view had already changed from last she had seen it all. The light smirk was still on her lips from hearing Youji scream out 'stop' so very much in vain... And yet something had obviously happened between his screaming of those words and the point up until now.   
  
The smirk just stayed on her lips as she moved her gaze about to try to deduce what had happened. So it seemed the mysterious powers that came with being one of the nonliving were indeed true. How... peculiar. Eyeing Tsuzuki who had his back turned to her she started to move into action to attack him, but even that slight twitch of a muscle sent a fiery pain through her form, causing a shrill scream to break forth from her lips as the curse work the brunette had worked on her held her exactly as she had been when it was cast. Every time she fought it, it sent another wave of pain through her, the ofuda and light binding about her nearly everything that was holy. And she was not.   
  
How annoying that they had been able to get such a thing on her in that brief absence of time in her memory.   
  
Even as she wriggled and twisted, just eliciting more pain as the magic curled tighter about her like an iron vice, she became aware of something else. In that short lull of time when the destruction had been paused and the demon held in a suspended reality, the fear and chaos of the surroundings had stopped. Letting the seal she had on the true Fujimiya Aya crack a bit more as it seemed safe to come forth. The time freeze had frozen the nearby beings who were still living...   
  
A flash of red from down the block caught her attention and her gaze flickered to see the two members of Schwarz who'd ventured this way. Oh so very much what she wanted to see now... this would ever so much help with the smugness the oracle held over her and the ill placed scorn the falsely named demon treated her. To see the all-powerful demon caught in a trap like a mouse... skillfully avoiding the wire mousetrap while snatching the cheese only to be ensnared with the cat's own claws.   
  
Well something would just have to be done. The demoness was hardly a foolish one despite what it may seem, and was hardly going to be fully taken down by mortals. Just to have more restrictions placed upon her powers by the immortals. She'd just have to do something about all of this... somehow.   
  
Her piercing and near hypnotic gaze set upon Hisoka as she tilted her head, nerves screaming with the pain that slight motion caused her. The demon fighting for even -that- slight motion. But she never made another sound, instead just leaving her in an eerie state of calm, eyeing the ones before her as inferiors despite her trapped state.   
  
With time's return, Hisoka felt the press of emotions flood the air around him again; faint as they were, it could, on occasion, be a distraction that proved problematic. Though, experience had taught him to filter it to the side, like everything else in life, allowing him to move onwards and focus on the present.   
  
Such as the demon-held young woman.   
  
The soulless gaze falling upon him was met defiantly, endlessly green eyes giving the illusion of strength even as his legs wanted to simply give up on him. The tremble of the ground was enough to unbalance him again, but his weight still on Tatsumi kept his feet on the ground long enough for Ken's power to stop and the world return to a stable normal.   
  
Once the ground beneath him was still again, Hisoka ventured his weight back on his own legs, feeling strength return to them with his determination. With time's return he had felt that flicker of warmth, the soul trapped within the body, and the one thing he was trying to reach. That small flicker of life, the stretching feeling of the person waking from a long rest, was what the Reimaken depended on for success. No human could simply drive a demon from their form, nor could someone simply strip it away; it was a task both for the possessed and the caster in order to find success in the splitting technique, minimizing danger through a joint will for freedom.   
  
And that will slowly awakening was all he needed to find motivation to recast the spell, quietly speaking the words as the barrier of light began to form around the girl again. Copying his motions from before, a certain lagging sense accompanying his slightly weaker actions, Hisoka kept his jade gaze upon the form within the light, dismissing the brightness to watch the progress, as invisible as it was. Reaching out with his hands, recreating the gestures of the spell meant to split spirit from spirit, Hisoka finished the incantation with the spell's name, putting his very willpower into the next few steps.   
  
"Accept the spell," he quietly growled between gritted teeth, a tense plea for the girl within the demon's bindings to reach out to his power and hold on, so that he knew which spirit was which and could pull the right one free.   
  
  
  
**Footnotes:**   
  
The second installment of the evening, with two more chapters to go. Whee! 


	7. Part Seven

**Disclaimer:** Yami and Weiß no ours. All we own is the wording of our writing, the characters belong to the people who own the copyright. Sue us and all you'll do is stop us from writing, thus saddening our readers. Please don't sue.   
  
**Angra Mainyu**   
  
_Arc Two - Supremacy - Part Seven_   
  
----------------------------   
  
Yurgh. Weiß? And the American wanted him alert. Nagi crossed his eyes into the coffee mug, wondering if one cup of coffee, black as night and hot as sin, was supposed to somehow do the same job as two and half bars of chocolate normally did. It would have been really damn nice if there had been more warning than five minutes worth when he woke up.   
  
Clearly, the other two were already gone. LONG gone, it seemed, and Brad was in a serious hurry to meet them. He wondered if the precog had seen something that dictated hurry. Nagi buried his nose back in his coffee and administered several telekinetic pinches to his own ass to help wake himself up.   
  
--   
  
In the time when they still had to scrape for a crumb of freedom from the Elders dictations, Farfarello had pondered the merits of joining his fate with that of Crawford's visions. True, he had to be grateful for Crawford making an effort to free him from his imprisonment, even though Farfarello would get out of that institute sooner or later by his own. He had to feel a bit of... companionship? No, more like camaraderie with the other three. But he never truly felt like a member of the group. Farfarello had always been alone, and those of Schwarz were only traveling in the same direction he was going in. Schuldig if anyone was the closest he had any feelings towards, mainly because they were often working together.   
  
Farfarello also held Crawford to the promise he made in that dim-lit piss-smelling room in Ireland years before. The freedom to be what he was under the eyes of the Liar and among the halls of mankind. Not to be a tool of petty-minded villains. Which was why he disliked the idea of the Demonchild in their midst, seeing in it being brought forth as Crawford's way of playing an Elder towards a powerful creature. But that paled to the presence of the doctor last night, whose scent was that of madness and control and over-confidence.   
  
No, he did not like how their steps seemed to be moving towards the same type of situation as the one they had with Este.   
  
"We better not fall into the grasp of another false keeper like the Elders. Crawford knows better than that," the Irishman growled in German.   
  
--   
  
"I doubt we will be encountering them that much," Brad explained as the elevator came to a halt. "My main concern is for Schuldig and Farfarello, and slightly for our guest. Weiß can be left alone so long as they do not interfere with us retrieving them. If our guest has been separated from the host, I don't think that we would be able to do anything to help out in that respect. But we may try if we get there in time."   
  
He stepped out into the garage as the doors slid open, glancing back at Nagi to make sure the teen was following. The hard amber-brown of his eyes softened faintly behind the reflective lens of his glasses, a very small part of himself wishing to just let the telekinetic to go back to bed. But he knew how useful Nagi's ability would be if they did have to confront the pesky Weiß and the new faces in his visions, so it was easy to dismiss that nagging big brother voice in order to do the best he could for all of them.   
  
Even if they did not realize it at the time.   
  
Nagi provided a nod as all of his answer. He forbore to actually ask anything, keeping his natural silence as shield. Anything he needed to know, he could either find out himself or Brad would tell him. HE almost hoped Weiß would interfere ... Nagi wasn't much for killing at any time, but if there were any four people he wanted to see dead, completely, messily, and truly dead, it was the four members of Weiß. Preferably by his own hands. HANDS being an important word there.   
  
Once again, the teenage telekinetic renewed his private vow never to kill needlessly again with his powers, as he did at least once each day. Usually not this early in the day, but then again he didn't usually have to think about Weiß this early in the day, either. Nagi kept his face blank of emotion and followed Brad.   
  
Sometimes he hated his savior as much as he hated Weiß.   
  
--   
  
Hisoka was right in a way by blocking off feelings of disapproval from Tatsumi because the treasurer didn't think that Hisoka seemed well enough to complete the spell. He could just barely keep on his feet. Yet at the same time Tatsumi recognized the determination in the boy, the very same determination he witnessed in Kyoto, and found himself admiring Hisoka's commitment once again. Despite any arguments the logical side of his brain had, Tatsumi wanted to see if Hisoka truly could pull off the Reimaken with the short energy supply he had. People often overlooked the younger Shinigami because they lacked the power and practice that those older than them had in the organization, but Tatsumi knew there was something special about Hisoka. In all the things the boy lacked as far as knowledge and age went, he made up for by strength of will. He just wouldn't accept a bad ending. Tatsumi could never understand how Hisoka found that kind of strength inside of himself, when he had led such a tragic life, but it was the one quality that caused Tatsumi to hold Kurosaki in high respect. By seeing Hisoka's determination, Tatsumi had found his again. It was one of the reasons why he wanted to see Hisoka with Tsuzuki as a partner. If there was anyone who could take care of that man, it was the Shinigami standing next to him.   
  
As Hisoka urged the spell upon the innocent soul inside the vessel bound by Tsuzuki's power, Tatsumi carefully watched the younger man's back to make sure nothing was thrown at him while he was concentrating. He especially kept an eye on Muraki, knowing that when he was around Tsuzuki was in danger as well. If the 'doctor' tried anything remotely harmful to either Hisoka or Tsuzuki, Tatsumi would reach up and shadow smack him off the roof. The kagesei had no qualms about bluntly attacking anyone who harmed the members of his organization. Especially Muraki, since he never had finished exacting the payment for what was done to Tsuzuki on him.   
  
Tatsumi's deep blue gaze flicked over to Tsuzuki for a brief moment and he pushed up his glasses (in the famous Tatsumi gesture *TM*). He wanted his former partner to watch Ken and Youji to make sure nothing happened to them either. Hopefully he would get the hint when Tatsumi nodded over to where the two new Shinigami were. Demons were tricky and he didn't want anything to happen while Weiß was still inexperienced. There was probably enough angst floating around today already, no need for another tragedy.   
  
--   
  
The sensation of being separated from one's borrowed form was not a sensation the demon had wished to repeat, but once more the Reimaken was wrapping itself about the girl's form, coaxing Aya-chan more awake and attempting to get her to fight with it, making it hard for the demon to fight against it. The last time Hisoka had cast the spell, it had been easy enough to break by using the chaos of the moment to its advantage to smush the girl's bright spirit back down. But this time that was proving difficult since there had been the peaceful lull of the time freeze in which the demon had been frozen. And Aya's soul had not. That brief moment between the time continuums of pure stillness had allowed the seal on the true girl to shatter, and it felt safe for her to come forth. When time had returned to normal and the demon once more took control, Aya had for the first time realized there was someone else in control of her own body... and she didn't much like that.   
  
And she wanted her own body back.   
  
Now.   
  
Shuddering and biting down on her lip, the demon fought to stay in this form a few moments more as it swept deep blue irises over everyone, trying to deduce its next move. Staying in this host body was definitely not going to be happening. The two forms of Farfarello and Schuldig were noted... but they were simply too far away for either of them to be her next possession. It was truly a pity it didn't know exactly which of the Shinigami had pulled that little time trick which had fully broken the already thin seal on Aya. Possessing them and ripping them to shreds from the inside out would be a pleasure.   
  
Indigo eyes finally settled on Hisoka, a light smile forming on her lips of utter cruel intelligence. Well she simply wouldn't just do this their way... A new host form with so many offered, but just as many there to fight that from happening just simply wasn't happening it seemed. As the Reimaken on the ofuda-withheld body continued its spell work successfully, a dark pool of energy started flowing forth from the petite form glowing from the spells wrapped about it.   
  
The energy that was the demon's purest form started coalescing into its true form of nightmarish visions of hell and torment. The form stayed the rich ebony color as large wings with sharp tips curled over formed, black leathery in appearance and the cursed flesh webbed and veined like a bat's wings. Long muscled hind legs which ended in vicious razored talons formed as the demon crouched on the ground, the large wings wrapped about itself as the rest of it formed, the wings uncurling a moment later to show the being's torso and face, every bit of its lean frightening figure the same leathery surface save the claws that gleamed as if wet from blood. Unblinking black eyes which the very depths of hell and creation and fear swirled within stared out from the horned head fell on Hisoka as it fully formed after a few moments, the freed body of Fujimiya Aya dropping to the ground behind it, but the demon didn't care. For a moment it actually considered turning and just consuming the girl's flesh as a final payback for the ones who brought it out, but it had other things in mind.   
  
Tatsumi's twilight blue eyes shifted to the color of a moonless midnight sky as liquid tendrils of the purest black rose from the shadows created by his and Hisoka's bodies. The shadows grew to twist about Hisoka's body, moving slowly in a cyclone formation that allowed Hisoka to still be seen. The tendrils had no shielding purpose as of yet, but if the demon chose to attack Hisoka then they would pull the boy into a shadow realm where the minion of Satan couldn't reach him. Tatsumi wasn't particularly concerned about whether Hisoka liked that plan or not. He was more worried about the boy being hurt or Tsuzuki being too distracted with Hisoka's health to do his job. The main problem now was getting the demon back to Hell where it belonged. Hisoka had done his part by saving Aya.   
  
Darkness began to whirl around Tatsumi's fist as well and his eyes flicked from the demon to the body behind it. At his silent command, a pool of darkness formed beneath Aya's body as bands of shadow leapt up to wrap about the girl's form protectively. Almost as soon as Aya was secured, she was pulled downward into the pool, which disappeared completely as soon as she was submerged in the darkness. The entire process took seconds to go through, making Aya's disappearance extremely sudden to those watching the events. In reality, the pool was one of the forms of a shadow portal, a technique he used to travel between the shadow realm, the mortal realm, and the realm of the dead. Aya would find herself placed somewhere in the Koneko when she finally regained consciousness, but Tatsumi wasn't really sure where he put her. She could be in a closet, on the kitchen floor, on a table, on a couch... anywhere. He hoped he hadn't placed her in a spot that was too uncomfortable.   
  
Upon getting Aya out, Tatsumi looked over to where Ken and Youji were standing. "You should go inside and check your flower deliveries. The girl is safe now and the rest of this situation is ours to worry about," he said, nodding back towards the building. He didn't want to say that he had placed Aya there, since he didn't need the demon to think it could still reach her. He wanted it to focus on the Shinigami now and leave the battle strictly to the experienced representatives of the JuOhCho.   
  
Tatsumi's attentions settled completely on the demon once again, assessing its mood and overall strength as he watched it carefully. It had been a little while since he had dealt with a demon, but he wasn't worried. His main role at the moment was to assist Tsuzuki by protecting Hisoka's welfare and watching the man's back to guard him from Muraki's sneaky games. Tsuzuki would be the one who would deal with the demon, seeing how he was the most capable with his Shikigami. After noting the unbridled rage in the demon's soulless eyes, Tatsumi smirked slightly and glanced at Hisoka. "Congratulations, Kurosaki-kun. You have officially pissed off a denizen of Hell," the kagetsukai commented wryly.   
  
A curious and pissed off brow quirked at the well-dressed Shinigami. He wanted him to check on the flowers... now... they were in the middle of a fight with a big assed fugly demon from the depths of Hell! And this clown wanted him AND Youji to check on a delivery in the shop. Not to mention this guy had taken Aya somewhere probably to some ecchi porn den for him to ravish the helpless Fujimiya.   
  
No way!   
  
Springing to his feet Ken lunged at the man only to be yanked back by the belt loop of his jeans. He turned to glare at Youji about ready to get his friend to leave him alone and let him beat the crap out of this stuffed shirt.   
  
Youji yanked again this time upward, grinning as he heard an uncomfortable groan of pain and Ken's hand moved to his groin.   
  
"Uh my ba-"   
  
Again he tugged a bit harder the blonde began dragging them back to the shop. "Right. We've got to get the shop ready for customers. Do be quick out here." Smiling politely Youji dragged a struggling Ken behind him as he quickly made his way over to the shop via the front grate, which they'd opened to get out there in the first place. Youji turned quickly once Ken was unceremoniously thrown inside colliding with a display of terracotta pots, and pulled the grate down quickly. He whirled on Ken suddenly green eyes fixing on aqua and held his hand up before Ken could start in on a tirade. "Help me find Aya. She's somewhere in here. That guy did some weird teleport with I think her shadow. Star checking dark places for her."   
  
Ken looked at Youji strangely as he brushed off the chunks of broken pot from his shoulders. He stood and finally realization hit him once he took a moment to actually -think- about what had happened. Nodding to Youji, Ken made his way downstairs first. "You check in here. I'll check the mission room."   
  
--   
  
As the shadows wrapped about the slender form fallen back onto the pavement on her side just feet from the demon, the girl slept on, not even stirring as the shadow-port moved her from the battleground to the flower shoppe. She appeared in one of the darkened bedrooms slightly in the air, dropping down the few inches to the soft mattress. Thick curtains were pulled over the window to keep out the daylight, leaving her in complete shadows but she didn't notice it. Aya simply turned on her side, the long pools of silk of the white dress and the waves of her dark hair flowing about her. No longer was she in the coma Muraki had sealed her into just as the car hit her hard enough to end her life. The young female Shinigami was simply sleeping, tired from aiding in casting out the demon from her body and the havoc going on about her.   
  
Right now she was content to sleep a bit longer, not wanting to wake to the loneliness she felt in the room. And Youji's bed was a soft place to spend her last moments of sleeping before waking to rejoin the world.   
  
--   
  
Opening his mouth to answer Farf with some off-the-cuff bullshit, Schuldig snapped his mouth shut and stared straight ahead. A chill passed through him when Aya looked in his direction, but that was nothing to compared to the fear that swept over him at the unfolding events on the streets.   
  
Sure, he'd known in theory that a demon possessed the girl, but to see it emerge into solid form was something else entirely. A rude awakening. Something that told him this really was -not- a game. That Crawford had been crazy to think that he could tamper with and control something as cruel as the demon standing before them. It made Schuldig ill to think that he had been sitting in the same room as that... thing ...the night before.   
  
Reality checks sucked.   
  
What to do? Run out there and help Weiß and the strangers and risk getting stabbed in the back for his efforts? For surely they would think he'd be helping the demon. No... they would -definitely- think that. Maybe he could run and find some dark, out of the way place to hole up until it all blew over. Uh huh. Right. Crawford would hunt him down and kill him quicker than the kittens would.   
  
So in the end, after some agonizing internal debating, he chose to remain right where he was. Crawford had said not to interfere if they could help it. So he wasn't. But if that thing so much as scratched Omi...   
  
Damn, he really needed to get his priorities straight...   
  
--   
  
When the demon's first frustrated screams had cut through the air, Tsuzuki turned back to face the possessed girl, bringing out another ofuda to use just in case the first one didn't hold. The blessed strip of silk only lasted as long as the material itself, and could end up becoming torn or damaged letting what spell it held crumble as well. Then of course there was the matter of the strength of the being it held and the energy that was amassed against the ofuda.   
  
He watched as the possessed girl struggled against the bonds he called up, glancing back at Hisoka to make sure he was still okay. The young Shinigami was pale and shaken, but his brilliant green eyes shone with determination. Smiling privately to himself, Tsuzuki turned his attention fully towards the demon-possessed girl, moving back to stand in between the two new Shinigami and the girl in case this time the Reimaken took hold.   
  
With a sigh, the freed girl collapsed, the demon was pulled from the body that hosted it. The growing shadows around both her and Hisoka freed his mind of worry for them. Tatsumi would take care of them.   
  
His fingers moved in the ancient pattern, drawing the scared kanji in the air, his voice whispering the words he learned so long ago, his sable hair stirred by a cool air that suddenly swirled down and encircled him. Hisoka's skills were in that of the spirit and emotions, Watari's in the science and abstract, Tatsumi had his shadows and the world of numbers. But Tsuzuki's skills laid in the Shikigami and the curse magic. And with the girl in relative safety and the demon standing freed, he was able to utilize those skills to their fullest.   
  
He ended the chant with a single name, the last syllable echoed by a roar. Appearing beside the Shinigami was a white tiger, larger than any tiger had ever become, standing at the same height as Tsuzuki. Its maw was full of sharp white teeth; the large paws ending in wickedly hooked claws. Its large blue eyes showed its true weapon, one of age and power far beyond that of any mortal animal, and an intelligence that was keener than any human's mind. Byakko from the North Wind, one of the twelve Shikigami, had answered Tsuzuki's call.   
  
"We are not done yet, demon," Tsuzuki stated, resting his hand on Byakko's ruff. "So don't think of leaving."   
  
Razored claws tapped lightly in a slow rhythm on the pavement as soulless eyes peered at Tsuzuki. A wide mouth of glistening teeth opened and it let out a sharp hiss at the appearance of the Shikigami, the demon's eyes narrowing at the man's words. It may have gotten itself into a bit of a sticky situation but it still was hardly a foolish and stupid demon. And it followed the orders of no Shinigami...   
  
From no one.   
  
It was no longer in the host body of Fujimiya Aya so was no longer under the contract with Schwarz. Though options of what to do now with that fact were looking slim...   
  
A loud screech sounded through the air like nails on a chalkboard as the large wings unfurled and it raked its talons over the concrete. Just as easily as it had taken flight the night before, but even more quickly since its leathery black wings were already spread, the creature rose up from the ground to leave the premises. Its slight advantage of being in the human body held so dear to the redhead was gone, so leaving was a very good option. Another screech ripped through the air as it gained altitude, heading upwards towards the rooftop level into the clear blue skies of the world hardly ready against its destruction. Its unreined destruction.   
  
With the possessed form restrained as it had been, Omi had allowed himself to relax slightly from the tense position he'd taken, instead resting his weight further back on his legs as he let the point of the arrow drop. Sky-dyed eyes continued to watch the proceedings with interest, a shard of understanding highlighting his gaze as Ran's words, along with his own conclusions, began to set the puzzle pieces in place. Watching Aya's form specifically, the youth worked the logic of the pieces in his mind, nodding silently to his own paths of thought. Possession by demon, as unlikely as the normal terms of physics allotted to it, did explain why the younger Fujimiya was attacking others, rather, had been attacking them.   
  
Innocently blue eyes went wide as the scene below shifted about again, the odd technique from the green-eyed Shinigami seeming to have some effect finally. The pooling of dark energy taking form confirmed the demon's sheer existence in concrete, no illusion able to conjure the kind of reality they were suddenly facing. Something undoubtedly evil, if stereotypical images were to be believed, was sitting down there, and no amount of logic would ever be able to explain it away as a mutated bat deciding to terrorize Tokyo.   
  
Within an instant, the young assassin was ready again; his body again held with precision, Omi raised the bow and drew back the string. His sights were simple and set on the demon as it screeched with the volume to deafen through the shrill tones. The leathery wings pushing for flight were centered in the line of his bow, the archer knowing well that it would likely be suicide to take on this sort of demon head on. Even for a dead person it would be suicide, given the extremely angry nature filling the creature's form. No doubt it was a little cranky from losing its host, and would be all too happy to shred the first person that directly attacked it. That, of course, explained why Omi had his sights on the wing. Disable the creature, and hopefully the ones below would deal with it. Especially given the sudden appearance of a large white tiger beside the violet-eyed Tsuzuki.   
  
Steady and true as ever, Omi pulled the arrow back as he had countless times on mission targets. Then, without a wavering to his form to upset the aim, he loosed the arrow, hearing the breath of air that haunted its former place. Even as the first arrow was off, Omi was reaching for the quiver beside him, to find a second and loose it, if his aim, somehow, proved less than true.   
  
--   
  
"Just as I've always wanted to do."   
  
The rather dry and careless reply came from the youngest Shinigami, who had sunk to his knees upon the success of the Reimaken. Had the technique not drawn nearly all his energy from him, Hisoka might have held a moment of pride at the success of his casting. However, twice conjuring the spirit-splitting Reimaken had drawn dry the reserves of energy he'd held, ones already depleted from the previous night's sync with Ran and his subsequent night traveling through the city's streets. As it was, he had enough spunk to retain his teenaged sarcasm, but little else.   
  
Allowing himself to give into the weakness of his legs, Hisoka watched the remains of the fight through his jade eyes, the light tones lacking the vibrant sheen of moments before. The shadow tendrils were given a half-hearted glare, the teen feeling somewhat bitter that he even needed the protection. Of course, logically, he had no ability left to create a barrier, with his whole-hearted castings. Teen logic never ran with normal logic, though, so he was simply acting his age and feeling overprotected, despite the basic need for that protection. Teenagers, go figure.   
  
--   
  
As expected, things were going sour for Schwarz's fortune. That much Muraki could see, even through the lapse of time that had held him immobile. With the return of motion, the doctor tilted his head slightly, watching more of the situation as it grew below. For a moment, the doctor considered assisting the demon, but chose not to for the sake of his 'neutrality' in the situation. To help the demon would be to show the Weiß-puppets that he was firmly siding with evil, and that would not assist in his later plans in the slightest. Of course, the opposite option of assisting with the 'exorcism' was as inapplicable, with the members of Schwarz who were at the scene and witnessing the incident. For his own interests, he would have to remain on the sidelines of the matter. Meanwhile, he could watch, learn, and listen for hints that would further his personal goals in the short-term future.   
  
Bemused by the lack of action from the two Schwarz-dolls, Muraki cast his unnatural gaze along the area, searching for a reason why. Curious to the direction of the German's gaze, he followed it up to the roof, spying the redhead and the blond puppets resting there. The latter was intent on the situation below, and the former was giving him quite the cold glare. Arching a brow, he returned the look coolly, privately fascinated by another pair of startlingly violet eyes, like his beloved had. A mental note was made to look into that one's life and see what possibilities lay therein. As for the blond, the doctor kept the image of the youth in his mind, for a later date. If the young archer was the point of interest to the German, than perhaps it would be good to remember, and use that, later.   
  
The screech of the demon loosed brought his attention back to the ground, where the dark form was now pulled from the young host. Quite a shame, in his opinion, since the girl had been so well cultivated to be perfect for the creature. Another carefully laid task wasted by the inopportune, but one that Muraki could forgive for the moment. He could work with the results, that much was certain. It would just take time, and carefully claimed neutrality, to see the benefits.   
  
For the moment, though, there was little else he could do. Shrugging, the confidant half-smile he preferred alight on his lips, Muraki summoned his powers and allowed the white teleport to consume him, sending him to the careful cover of the alley near Schwarz's position.   
  
"Your leader made his mistake today," he said, his voice loud enough to be heard, yet his form hidden from Weiß's sight - in order to keep the image of neutral-Muraki, of course. "And his precious pawn of a demon has been lost. Tell him to contact me if he wishes an alliance to restore that lost power."   
  
--   
  
Darnit, they were doing everything without him!   
  
The subtle hints of a genius' pout touched Watari's lips as he dove towards the ground, righting his balance at the last second to land perfectly on his feet. For his feathery part, 003 did not match his companion's skill, instead crashing to the ground like a fluffy, avian rock. Dust rose from the miniature crater, quickly cleared away by swiftly beaten wings as the small owl righted himself and sloppily took to the air to land on Watari's shoulder, where he promptly dusted himself off as though plummeting to the ground like a mini-meteorite was nothing new for him.   
  
"Bon! Tsuzuki, Tatsumi!" Admonishing tones took to his voice as Watari crossed his arms, attempting to look serious and foreboding. "You didn't wait for me, how cruel is that?"   
  
Of course, the towering form of demonic power did not much bother Watari, who ignored the worst of the screeching. Nails on chalkboard was a normal occurrence when he was busy with calculations and ran out of chalk - fingernails could leave trails in the dust that worked fine for calculations and all.   
  
Unable to keep his angry features for very long, Watari allowed his frown to turn into a proud grin as he fished out a piece of paper, listing out the power associations for each of the new Shinigami. "Oh, and I was right!" he added, as though it were a genki afterthought. "One of them -does- influence time! Oh, 003 owes me some birdseed, he actually bet that I was wrong. Can you imagine that ever happening?"   
  
--   
  
Fascinating but getting tedious. Farfarello studied the dark form of the demon revealed with the same uh-hum interest of a scientist looking at another housefly. It was interesting but after a few seconds it just lost any appeal. He had no idea why such creatures were into trying to scare others with the twisted and the deformed. In his own twisted mind, the shape of demons that would cause the deepest fear would be like the Morning Star. A fallen angel, he would still be beautiful and soft of speech until one saw the wings made from pure midnight fears.   
  
His foot tapping the ground, Farfarello folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head to the one side as he looked for Crawford's car. Demon watching was over. He now wanted to go and finish destroying Este sometime in the next century.   
  
Raising an eyebrow at that voice, Farfarello's lips pulled into a dark grin, revealing pale gums and animalistic teeth as he turned his head towards him. Why was he not surprised to hear from the white-clad messiah of their collective problems of the moment? Still trying to fish for acolytes in a dry lake, or did he still think they clung to his nets like starved things?   
  
"Judge not what you do not understand," Farfarello replied calmly, the dark expression gone again, features serene to deny the madness inside. "The Demonchild has done what he told us it would do, as we have done what he asked. If we wished for power, we would have let the Este Elders raise the demon as they wished instead of thrown our fates on a different path."   
  
--   
  
Driving when one was a precog was a very interesting experience especially when one was in a hurry. Brad was a past master of using the slightest bit of information his gift gave him, knowing when to squeeze through one stoplight, and when to make an illegal turn down a one-way street. Avoiding the pitfalls of traffic with a part of his mind, Brad plotted through the twists and turns of their next future steps. Este was still around, though a majority of its power had been broken. Their training facilities for more agents were still around. Now would be the perfect time to strike at them while they were trying to gather their power back together.   
  
A trip that was supposed to include the now freed demon.   
  
Brad was good with improvising though. The demon would have backed them up but they could still take care of that place, it just called for a change in plans. And as for the possibility of joining forces with the doctor from last night... that was not a wise choice. Neither was returning to the apartment to stay.   
  
Stopping near where Farfarello and Schuldig were standing, Brad adjusted his gun before stepping out into the street, his eyes masked by the early morning sunlight reflecting off his glasses. He caught the end of Farfarello's words, smirking faintly at the Irishman's odd choices of words. Different paths, indeed.   
  
"Farfarello, Schuldig, time to go," he told the two, not even looking at what he knew was happening.   
  
--   
  
"Why oh why do they always run..." Tsuzuki asked himself as the demon took to the air. Not expecting an answer from anyone, let alone the demon itself, he grabbed a handful of Byakko's silky hair in both hands and swung his legs over the tiger's broad back, adjusting his seat as the Shikigami took to the air after the demon.   
  
There was the exhilaration of flight without having to concentrate on it, the feeling of the wind rippling through his hair and the powerful breathing of the tiger he was astride. Ruffling Byakko's fur affectionately, Tsuzuki glanced down at the others on the ground giving them a wave before turning his attention onto the dark shape before them.   
  
The last time he fought a demon, he had let it get in close enough to mark him, enough so that he became a new host for the creature. Tsuzuki just had to be careful not to let this demon do the same to him. He did not want to be the cause for another destruction of the Library because he got too close.   
  
Flipping out another ofuda between his fingers, Tsuzuki gave the demon a wink as he flung it at the demon's back even as Byakko climbed for more height like a hawk trying to overshadow its prey.   
  
A sound of sharp metallic grinding rage-filled pain cut through the air as Omi's aim proved to be true, the demon having truly dismissed the ones on the roof as being able to hinder it in its escape to the heavens it never belonged in. The endless eyes of darkness found themselves locked on the young archer as a bronzed metallic blood flowed along the veins in the wing from the torn flesh where the bolt had ripped through the wing. Though Omi had aimed for where the muscles seemed to line the cartilage structure, the demon had shifted its wing to catch the unavoidable projectile instead in the broad part of just flesh and veins. Despite the sudden injury on its appendages required for flight, the demonic creature kept itself in the air with a hard swoop of its stronger wing.   
  
The streak of white against the dark pavement below easily caught its attention, bringing it away from its attacker on the roof. Tsuzuki's following ascent was watched carefully and in a dark flash, the kanji etched ofuda was sent floating back to the ground in shreds. The demon's talon making quick work of it. A simple holding spell against the demon's true form would do little good, and it simply did not want to right now deal with the nuisance it would prove to be. Ignoring the still ascending near god like being and its passenger, the demon opened its mouth of jagged teeth and released a long hiss at Omi. Still hanging in the air, it brought its wings together in a sharp clap, a burst of destruction dark energy, visible unlike its former attacks, flew forth from the tips of its wings. Straight to the one which had injured it so and allowed it to get quickly surrounded.   
  
There was something... completely fucking eerie about watching dark energy flow forth from one's loved sibling to form into a being which Ran knew would haunt his dreams for years on end. Completely fucking eerie was really the only thing, which properly described this situation. The man's hand not holding the gun rested on the ledge of the roof, his already pale knuckles white from clenching onto the stone jut of the building. He felt himself freeze at the sight of the being which had been inside his sister's form... summoned there by Schwarz... and his frozen shocked state just intensified more as the fainted form of his younger sister just vanished into the shadows. The only thing which kept him from going into a controlled but shi-ne'ing panic was the new man turning to Youji and Ken and the blond then tugging the younger assassin inside. Hopefully one of them knew what the hell was going on... they would have to all confer later...   
  
After this insanity was calmed. Hopefully not all of their days as Shinigami would be like this...   
  
Seeing as there was little he could do, he just observed the demon. Easy to do since he couldn't pull his eyes off of the creature which had inhabited his sister's form for a few days. A light shudder moved through his still form, the redhead wondering if she would remember any of that... he hoped not, for her sake. Seeing what that demon had done with her body for its own uses would be completely different than if she had actually been able to hear him when he talked to her while she was in her coma. He had told her of his progress to find Takatori... Always he'd known Takatori was just a very vile man, but a man, a human. With weaknesses. Not fully evil even if he was very much on the corrupt side of the scales, setting it off balance. This demon was fully unlike anything they'd so far seen in the matters of good and evil. It had no human instincts or conscience of right and wrong...   
  
The utterly evil creature taking flight and coming up towards them brought him out of his silent reverie of just what Weiß was now involved in. Omi reacted before he did with his compact bow before he could with the gun in his hand and he just observed the demon's angered lashings, seeing those dark eyes set themselves on his younger teammate. The same cruel intelligence which had gazed upon him earlier through his sister's deep blue irises.   
  
Seeing the race of sizzling black energy headed towards his teammate in an attack moved him to action, the gun shooting a quick succession of bullets at the creature's wing without hesitation, aiming where Omi had before. Close to the shoulder to make the muscles and tendons which moved the wing too torn to work... that was of course guessing that the demonic form was built similar to the human in that it needed muscles to work, but the bronze shaded blood streaking down the wing and dripping like acid to the ground gave him a good guess it did. He idly wondered if this would work better if Hisoka had put silver bullets into his gun... or was that simply werewolves... or a complete myth entirely... but hopefully whatever was in the clip would do the job to get the demon out of the sky and away from attacking range of himself and his teammate.   
  
Letting out another high grating shriek as more damage was done to the very same wing, the dark form started in a slow plummet back to the ground, not able to stay in the air with one wing disabled.   
  
Unnerving and freaky certainly described the creature that was staring at him with nothing but hate in its tainted eyes, but that did not cause falter to Omi, who stared right back at it with even emotion in his gaze. Raised to kill or be killed, the young archer had seen atrocities in life that few would ever think possible. He'd brought punishment to people who'd held no qualms about raping children, or dissecting people to get human filet for supper. Seeing a demon was, admittedly, a personification of all those terrors combined, but it did not hold him immobile. At least, not when his mind had slipped into the mode of a mission, where it was a literal matter of survival of the fittest - people who froze at the horrors that arose in such situations never survived.   
  
The calm, infallible assassin mask broke to a wide-eyed teen as the hell-spawned creature snapped its wings in the creation of an unmistakable attack. Kneeling as he was, with another arrow notched to the string for release, Omi did not have the time he needed to simply dive out of the way - not without seriously damaging his bow, which would leave him weaponless in the fight. Forced to improvise in an already unplanned situation, the blond tried to lurch his weight and balance backwards, to accommodate for his shift and the subsequent attempt to stand that way and then back up, away from the strike.   
  
Of course, as with all intelligent, instantaneous plans for self-preservation, Omi's was doomed to failure due to a simple lack of time allotted for its completion. With a rather silent curse to how helpless he was in that split-second from the attack's launch to it's arrival, Omi took the hit dead on, letting out a sharp yelp of surprise and pain as it knocked him back. The sound of Ran's return fire on the demon echoed around him as the force of the strike began to dissipate, leaving a momentarily eerie sense of chill in his form, which sunk slowly into recession before seeming to fade completely.   
  
For the moment, the manager lay still, hoping that no follow-up offensives were going to be directed at him, or that they would pass above him if they did. Then, with a slowness that accompanied all injuries, even the basic soreness of being flattened to the roof, he shifted, reaching out for the bow he had dropped in his attempt to escape the inevitable. Once he had a weapon, he would think about sitting up; but there was no way he was going to get up without some sort of way to strike back it he got attacked again. Being struck by the source of ultimate evil was definitely not high on his to-do-again list.   
  
Cursing faintly as the slap of energy he'd been unable to stop hit Omi hard enough to knock him onto his back on the hard rooftop, Ran kept his gaze on the dark form of the demon. Once he saw it was indeed spiraling back down to the ground and unable to give another strike like that, the redhead crouched down beside the boy's form. He still held the gun in his hand and listened carefully in case the demon tried to ascend from the ground again, even more pissed off than before. He wasn't quite sure just how much damage he had done or how quickly that thing could recover from it all, but at least he now knew that their weapons did have an effect on it.   
  
Pale lavender eyes moved over Omi's form, looking for signs of injury, blood, twisted limbs, but saw none. The slow instinctive reaching for his bow was reassuring and Ran allowed him to get it himself. "Are you all right, Bombay..." he asked softly, letting him know who was so close to him. He closely watched the boy's eyes as he recovered from the attack. The irises were shaded by his half-open lids and long lashes, and he watched him closely to see if those usual cerulean eyes were anything like the dead darkness he'd seen in Aya's eyes... He was unsure just what the creature had done to his teammate, so he was checking the one sign of possession he was certain of. His low crouched position was one of readiness, able and ready to move quickly away from Omi if any of the soulless depths had found its way into his gaze.   
  
Paranoid about getting one person he cared about free of a demon only to have it take another? Oh. Just a bit.   
  
--   
  
"For one of Schwarz, you understand very little, Farfarello," Muraki returned, a silvery eye watching the Irishman with no restraint of the faint amusement in the unnaturally toned depths. "It is disappointing, on the whole; I thought the best psychic team of Este would prove a little more logical in the use of their options."   
  
Slipping pale hands into the pockets of his white coat, Muraki raised an eyebrow at the other, that amusement in his gaze slowly forming into the faintest of smirks on his lips. Though those before him might have denied it, the doctor was learning and knew well already of their quirks and surface weaknesses. Let them scoff his offer and give scorn to that which he could have helped them achieve, he cared not. Whether Schwarz allied themselves with him did little to affect his personal future, though it had everything to affect theirs. If they turned down his twice offered alliance, he would slowly tear them to pieces. Figuratively, literally; the manner mattered not. He would simply do it, as he pleased, as their freedom grew to be of less use to him. The world was full of pawns for Muraki, Schwarz was simply being inducted to the ranks of sacrificial ones.   
  
Upon Brad's arrival, Muraki yielded no aspect of respect to the other, withholding any societal kindness for when the man truly deserved it. He did, however, take a moment to consider what would be his last offer to Schwarz, as well as a sort of reminder to them. "The offer remains open, for the next while," he said smoothly, confidence abundant in his usual air. "A simple token that you might need time to consider it. As for your little Irish matter of power... I find it curious that you would have allowed another person to summon, and therefore control, a powerful demon if -you- had wanted power. All that would have done would be to give the Elders you seem to hate the hand they needed to strike your ambition down. Which might still be attempted... Take heed, Schwarz: Este is still around. The older believers were at the ritual, and now the younger, stronger powers are taking control. They will, no doubt, hunt you down on terms not even you could escape from. Not even the great Schwarz, after all, can stop a thousand-strong force of psychics trained to deal with their own kind. Remember that, and call me when logic sinks in."   
  
--   
  
Nagi didn't even bother to get out of the car. He kept his hands wrapped tightly around the coffee mug. A brief notion of learning enough finesse to keep the coffee hot with his telekinesis tickled his fancy - before any and all thoughts vanished at his notice of the freed demon.   
  
IF anyone had been looking at the teen in that moment, they would have seen one of the first unguarded expressions to cross his face in several years, at least - pure, complete, and total shock. It didn't last long, just a brief second, before Nagi reasserted his tight control. OBVIOUSLY, Brad had known this would happen. Equally obviously, they weren't going to do anything about it.   
  
Nagi began thinking furiously. Where was Fujimiya Aya? If she was the original host, and the demon was now freed, that meant Aya had to be somewhere else; it was unlikely her body had been destroyed. A demon-less Aya, NOT with Schwarz, meant she would probably be with Weiß. He wondered if she would remember anything from the period the demon was in her body. If so, she would almost certainly hold it against them. Equally so, her presence with Weiß would goad that group on against Schwarz. Not a good thing.   
  
He hoped Brad had included all of this in his plans. Regardless, Nagi would do what he was told.   
  
--   
  
"She's not in the shop."   
  
"She's not in the mission room either." Standing in the living areas of the Koneko no Sume Ie, Ken met Youji in the kitchen after having searched the mission room. "You already search up here?"   
  
The blonde nodded. He gave a worried glance upward at the commotion up on the roof, the noises filtering down from the still broken door. He wanted to know what was going on, but not until he could find the girl. He trusted his teammates to call them if they needed their assistance. For now the unofficial order to find Aya was priority. "Haven't gotten to the rooms. I'll check mine first."   
  
"Okay I'll check Aya's." Ken moved and paused. A confused look falling over his face as his hand moved to scratch his head.   
  
"I know what you mean. Oh and remember. Aya is too big to fit in her brother's underwear drawer." Youji grinned and headed for his room.   
  
"Youji!" Ken blushed various shades of red until he reached one of absolute mortification.   
  
The man laughed and shrugged. "You're perverted enough to check, Kenken. Just making sure you know what you're looking for."   
  
"Why would I want to check his underwear drawer?" Ken was now unabashedly curious.   
  
"Well first of all, to check if he -has- any underwear to begin with. If that man goes commando I'll be very surprised, which could only mean good things for you. If he has any bikini or colored, it means he's more adventurous than I thought. If there's a thong in there..." Youji clapped his hands and wiggled his hips in a sexually grinding motion imitating the slapping of a very agreeable ass. "Wooo baby, Kenken... you're in for the romping fuck of a lifetime."   
  
Ken reached the pallor in his cheeks of someone about two seconds from dying of embarrassment. Looking around for something, Ken settled on an apple from the fruit bowl near by and chucked it at his friend.   
  
He caught it easily and smiled. "Thanks, I was getting kinda hungry." Winking with a playful growl, Youji wandered the short distance to his room. Seeing the delicately sleeping lump on his bed, he turned his head back and smirked as he watched Ken at the redhead's door silently debating the survival factor of entering that particular boudoir. Deciding on letting Ken suffer a little more, Youji closed the door behind him and moved over to his bed taking a seat on the edge of it. Caging the girl between an arm and his body, green eyes peered over the girl's sleeping form. He bit into the crunchy apple and just watched her, the use of his body nearly hovering over her protective as much as a curious gesture. The male tilted his head in thought an eerie feeling of déjà vu washing over him. There was something freakily familiar about this little tableau, but he disregarded it.   
  
After all, he'd never had a sleeping Fujimiya in his bed before. The idea of that was just utterly absurd.   
  
It was warm...   
  
The added presence of Youji in the room took away the slight chill that had settled into the room, having not had a single person within the four walls in the past day since the blond had slept in Ken's room. To a sleeping soul who hadn't been near anyone familiar for months, since she was taken from the hospital on the beach, the presence in the room was easy enough to sense. The man hovering over her gave off a sense of warmth and comfort...   
  
Unseen by her, on her ankle was a dark splotch in the form of a star, which was slowly fading away without a trace to leave the smooth expanse of her skin unblemished. It was a mark that was emblazoned somewhere on the body of one possessed, and would only fade when they were free and untainted. Aya started to stir and slowly uncurled from her tucked up position on the bed, the long white dress which came to her knees hugging to her form, but paused before opening her eyes. She was almost afraid to wake up... she wasn't sure where she was or what was going on or who was there with her. She'd been sleeping so long, just how very much had changed?   
  
Other than the presence of someone else, there were other things present as well. The soft scent of lilies mixed with the characteristic scent of cigarette smoke... Which wasn't unpleasant. The lilies reminded her of how it had always smelled around her before she was taken from the warmth, the soft familiarity she had learned to associate with her brother while in her coma not touching her nostrils until now. The light touch of cigarette smoke was reminiscent of the cigar her father had indulged in after dinner each night, the evening after he was off from the bank and she and Ran home from school and activities really the only time they saw him. The light crunch and the sweet smell of the apple Youji was eating struck her senses, reminding her of caramel apples she and Ran had enjoyed at the carnival she remembered so well, and the cinnamon apple tarts her mother used to make.   
  
Dark lashes fluttered against pale cheeks as the girl opened her eyes and tilted her head, trying to see the one who was with her. "Oniichan..." she said softly out of habit, figuring the redhead would be there when she awoke. Who else would be? Her parents were-- gone. Things that Ran had told her while she was comatose were fuzzy at best and may return fully with time, so she really didn't know who else in the world she had. And all the familiar soft fragrances in the room comforting her and coaxing her fully to wake she could associate with her older brother.   
  
When her eyes set on the one there with her she blinked a few times and blushed faintly. The handsome face with the sparkling green eyes while kind seeming, was definitely not Ran... not unless he dyed his hair a honey shade. And in the years she was comatose... became a -guy-. "You're not Ran-nii..." she said in a soft chiming voice, slowly sitting up against the headboard, still caged by Youji's arm, but... not unpleasantly so. Her head tilted to the side as she gazed around, some of the shyness flitting away as she got curious, that curiosity in her eyes similar to a kitten's, finding itself in a new place. "Who are you... and where am I?"   
  
  
  
**Footnotes:**   
  
_(http://elfwood.lysator.liu.se/loth/m/a/max/demon.jpg.html Inspiration and basis for the demon's form. I did not draw this. The talented Max Bertuzzi did.)_


	8. Part Eight

**Disclaimer:** Yami and Weiß no ours. All we own is the wording of our writing, the characters belong to the people who own the copyright. Sue us and all you'll do is stop us from writing, thus saddening our readers. Please don't sue.   
  
**Angra Mainyu**   
  
_Arc Two - Supremacy - Part Eight_   
  
----------------------------   
  
A low laugh from pale lips was the only answer Farfarello gave him. The Irishman's single amber eye glinted with more than natural intellect, a sullen fire growing in its depths. Slender, dainty-like hands flexed, the lean muscles of his arms twisting underneath his pale skin.   
  
Brad was afraid of this. Farfarello had always been a bit unstable at the best of times, a walking time bomb of unexplored temper and violence. The presence of the demon had made him a little more paranoid, bringing back his drive to harm himself and everyone else in order to punish God. Brad had hoped that Farfarello's driving need had grown dull after the death of his mother, but no, it had only been repressed by the events afterwards.   
  
But now, Farfarello looked ready to fall right back into his old patterns.   
  
Biting back a faint sigh, Brad took out his gun and holding it by the barrel swung the grip hard against Farfarello's skull. He had expectations that the blow wouldn't really hurt the psycho. He just wanted his attention.   
  
His head moved with the force of the blow, a trickle of something dark marring his silvery hair, tricking down the side of his face. Turning to look at Brad, Farfarello's eye narrowed.   
  
"We are leaving, Farfarello," Brad stated, not flinching from the hostility in that single eye. Scowling, the albino moved towards the car, one hand rising to wipe half-heartedly at the fluid. Turning his attention to Schuldig, Brad returned the gun back into its holster. "Schuldig, keep an eye on him. I did not bring any tranqs to use on him."   
  
_//Now is not the time, Schuldig. Just get into the car. Your kitten is going to be fine.//_   
  
"We will think about it, Doctor Muraki," Brad said, waiting for Schuldig to do as he was told. "I will advise to stray from arguing with a madman whose only thoughts are to punish God and all of His agents, and self-mutilation. When he talks about recent events he tends to be rather unsure of what happened inside his skull and outside it. We had better get going in any event. Until we talk again."   
  
Nagi eyed the other members of Schwarz, standing outside the car. Whatever had happened, he'd missed it in his absorption with the demon battle. Farfarello had blood on his face, and it looked rather like Brad had hit him with the gun. Curious. Some backsliding was going on here. Then again, as long as Farfarello didn't try to touch him, Nagi, they would be fine...   
  
Truth was, Nagi really didn't like Schwarz all that much. He stayed with them out of duty, not love. Or even like. He liked Weiß a lot less, though. And Schwarz was against Weiß. Ergo, Nagi would stay with Schwarz. Sometimes he thought he was the most sane of the four of them, but it wasn't his place to speak. He just did as he was told.   
  
Silently, he swung the other doors of the car open with his telekinesis.   
  
--   
  
"Ahhh quite the bishoujo with your eyes open, aren't we Aya." Grinning softly Youji took another bite of the apple offering a non-bitten portion to the girl. "Kudou Youji, notorious womanizer, rake, and all around playboy at your service. That is who I am. I'm quite saddened my reputation doesn't precede me but in special circumstances such as yours I think I'll forgive you." The blonde's smile widened as he let his eyes rake over her nubile form but with none of the predatory gleam that usually went hand in hand with the perusal. He was only teasing the girl hoping to get a bit of a blush from her.   
  
He had a real fetish for getting innocent minds to blush. It made his day hence why he tried it on Omi several times. He was quite happy he'd have a new victim now. "As for where you are... You just happen to be in my bed and wearing little next to nothing. Now had I not known you were nicely dropped on my bed and didn't actually -plan- on being here I'd have no choice but to accept the blatant invitation that a beauty like you would be presenting to me in such a situation." A hand reached out to playfully cuff her chin as he winked, "But I think I'll spare you a night of ravishing.... For now." The last was said with such a wide charming grin it reeked of Harlequin Bishiness.   
  
The soft rose color spread over the girl's cheeks at Youji's words and she parted her lips to speak, only to squeak faintly. Which just caused a slight flush of embarrassment to heat her already pink cheeks. Quickly closing her mouth and coughing and hoping to cover that slight awkward moment where the man with her was just so... dazzling, she momentarily lost the power of speech. Shifting on the bed and not really knowing what to say to his words, she sat up a bit more and curled her legs under her, letting the skirt flow down about her, a bit more covering. Nodding softly with a smile, she accepted the apple and held it in both her hands for a moment. She didn't really feel especially hungry... even though she could barely remember the last time she'd eaten. At that thought she blinked and thought for a moment and then shook her head, the seal on her too solid while she had been possessed for her to remember while conscious and while thinking about it anything the demon had done while in her form. Thankful... that included its morning... feast.   
  
Taking a bite of the apple to fill the silence as she waited for her power of speech to return, wanting to give it ample time as she had never before met anyone like this charming male and it was going to take some getting used to, she swallowed and glanced at him. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Youji-san... You know my name so you must know my brother... Thank you for loaning me your bed for a short nap." Tilting her head to the side she thought over what he had said, blushing again in memory as she did so but her brow quirked up slightly. A mirror to her brother's eyebrow raise when something perplexed him or caught his attention. As well as his own silent question, answer, inquiry for more, 'you are unworthy' gaze, 'you are correct' gaze...   
  
"You said I was dropped into your bed..." she said softly, holding the apple lightly in case he wanted another bite from his side of the fruit. "How did I get here, exactly?" Persistent in finding out what she wants to the end... she is her brother's sister.   
  
"Isn't it obvious? You're an angel from heaven here to purge the sin from my bed." He grinned again deliberately dodging the question. He didn't want to be the one to explain things to her. It wasn't his place. That was a decision best left for Omi and Aya... A brief frown flittered for a mere second. Aya was going to need another name for them to call him from or it was going to get confusing really quickly. Especially for Ken, though that would be a riot to see. "See. Only angels wear see through gowns like that and are as beautiful and sweet as you are. And only an angel would merely nibble into an apple that delicious and crunchy rather than just crunch happily away at it. So if my logic is correct. If it looks like an angel, and looks like an angel. Then it's an angel. Hey... Aya starts with 'a' and angel starts with 'a'. We have even more proof now." He grinned and leaned forward more as a distraction tactic to get Aya off her too curious thoughts and buying the elder Fujimiya more time to get down hre. "So... what's a dirty old man and horny devil like myself got to do to corrupt an angel such as yourself?"   
  
--   
  
Across the hall a trembling hand pushed the door to the elder Fujimiya's room and looked in. A bed which was made, a dresser with one framed photo on it, two large bookshelves, and a katana hanging above his bed. That was all the man's room consisted of. The room was devoid of much of anything personal and color. Actually one bit of color did grab his attention. A very familiar arrangement of vivid deep reds and vibrant yellows caught his attention. A small flat arrangement of bright yellow daffodils and sweet William mingled creating a thick bushy mat of petals. A soft smile broke over Ken's lips as he moved further into the room. He looked down noting the special care it was being given. Fresh water probably changed the day before. The faint aroma still lingering around it.   
  
He'd kept it.   
  
Every birthday for as long as Aya had been with them, Ken sent this particular arrangement anonymously every year.   
  
Daffodils for unrequited love, and sweet William for a wish to see a smile.   
  
Ken never expected to see it. The fact that he was looking at it now brought a goofy boyish grin to his face.   
  
--   
  
With a slow breath drawn in, Omi was starting to feel more human again, rather than a piece of road kill flattened by demonic tires. Feeling his fingers close around his bow, he tightened his grip and drew the weapon slower to him. Then, with deliberate ease, in case he was injured and had not realized it, the youth began to sit up, feeling a few minor bodily cries that this was not a fun activity and that he should lay down again and let it all be. That being against his basic sense of self, he quickly disregarded the minor calls of sore pain in favor of getting his knees under him again.   
  
The words of his companion finally registering, Omi nodded slowly before turning his bright sapphire eyes to Ran's violet ones. Aside from the remaining matte touch of slower recovery, his sky-dyed eyes were as human as they had been a moment before. No dark evil shadow lingered in the brightly tinted iris, and no frost accompanied his look. Only a weak smile, to show that he was okay, lingered in the boy's blue gaze. Very much okay, even though he'd had the wind completely knocked from his lungs and mind.   
  
The vivid reminder that they were still in the midst of a fight returned the Bombay stillness to his gaze, the young archer crawling towards the building ledge to peer down below again. "Is it dead yet?" he asked softly, watching the creature spiral towards the ground, the odd blood seeping from multiple wing injuries. Seeing the signs of motion that still broke the demon's form, clear evidence of a negative answer to his question, Omi quickly shifted mental gears. "Wait, never mind... Is there any way -to- kill it?"   
  
--   
  
Having gained enough height on the demon, Byakko hovered for a moment, taking a deep breath to use the power of the wind to flatten the creature back to earth. The demon lashing out at the ofuda and the subsequent attack on Omi was missed during the climb, but Byakko could feel the taint in the air of the demon's dark powers.   
  
Tsuzuki clung to his fur like an oversized burr, his twilight hued irises widening as he looked down between the furry ears at the distant ground below. It was not a sight he wanted to see on an empty, well almost empty stomach. Closing his eyes and swallowing hurriedly, he wrapped his arms around Byakko's neck and buried his face into the sweet fur.   
  
Shaking his head, the Shikigami dropped like a lead ball, all four paws underneath it, the claws extended as the tiger headed straight down for the demon's falling form. Mouth opening, Byakko readied a tornado of air to smash it into the ground.   
  
It was a case of facing the claws or facing the twisting winds.   
  
--   
  
//What?// Schuldig asked, slowly turning from watching Omi on the roof to Crawford. Had the American heard his thoughts about going to...gasp... -help- Omi and flee Schwarz? Sure he broadcasted sometimes. The gods only knew he wasn't perfect at keeping his thoughts in check or blocking others out all the time, but Crawford was, more or less, a dense wall to his telepathy. Someone Schuldig pretty much only stuck by at times for the blessed silence the man offered him to the Voices that constantly seeped in.   
  
No. Crawford couldn't have Heard that. Schuldig was pretty sure that he had kept the traitorous thoughts on a very tight leash. Even another telepath in the vicinity would have had trouble Reading him. Sooooo... he guessed that the man simply meant what he said. That Omi could take care of himself and be fine.   
  
At least he hoped so. One never could tell with the American's Gift of premonition. Which meant he would have to be very careful in what he thought and planned from there on out. One way or another, however, the German -would- find a way into Kritiker.   
  
Glancing at Farfarello, noting the blood for the first time with a quirked eyebrow, Schuldig offered him an empty, lopsided grin. "Did you get a little over excited about seeing the pretty, redheaded kitty again?" Not waiting for the reply, but knowing one would likely come, Schuldig slipped passed Farfarello, shot Omi one last, furtive longing look, then climbed into Crawford's car.   
  
--   
  
Moving over to the ledge with Omi to watch the current situation more closely, Ran's gaze stayed close on the boy in cool cautious observation before he cast his attention down to the plummeting demon and Shikigami closely following. The disappearance of the man in white on the other rooftop, and the lingering presence of Schwarz a few blocks away was still in the forefront of Ran's mind as he took in the happenings here. Hardly calm and safe enough to assume the Shinigami and Byakko would take care of the demon and Schwarz would stay away for Ran to go back inside and see how the search for his sister was going. He knew, even still mildly dazed, Omi would not leave the near aerial observation of the scene until all things had settled and the threats... all of them... were gone. And with so many uncertainties about, he couldn't leave his teammate up here alone. Even for his sister he hadn't seen in so long... he'd have to trust Ken and Youji to find her and keep her well as she was finally returned to where she belonged.   
  
Well he wasn't fully one-track minded about Aya. Be impressed.   
  
"I suppose we shall find out one way or another, soon enough," Ran answered in his usual soft serious tones, leaning a hand against the ledge of the roof as he peered down. "It bleeds like every other living creature.... well, logically figuring, that was blood. And Tsuzuki seems intent on doing something..." With the shock of seeing that thing come out of his sister having time to dissipate, as well as her departure from the scene, some of the uneasiness in his eyes faded. Easily he returned to his coldly observant self, watching the dark haired Shinigami in action. The easily observed fact that Tsuzuki seemed to be scared of heights was morbidly amusing...   
  
Well... it would be had the situation not been so dire.   
  
The hard push of air sent the demon spiraling down to the pavement in its awkward and uncontrolled fall even faster, the pavement approaching just as quickly as the crimson eyed tiger was gaining on the spiraling down dark form. The bolt and rapid gunfire had torn its wing too badly for it to attempt a sudden shift of its wing to catch the air and cease its plummet. Pools of the oddly colored metallic liquid spread on the pavement as it struck, the landing soundless except for the heavy crack against the pavement. As it struck so suddenly and Byakko was close behind in the air, the tiger's claws easily sunk into the flesh of its back where the wings jutted out from its body.   
  
Ran's head tilted to the side as he watched the bronzed blood of the creature flow as the Shikigami caught its prey, his violet eyes still and emotionless even as a hot wind flowed down the street. The black leathery skin of the demon turning to ash and crumbling as the blood left its form, the dark ash scattering away on the wind as the blood dried up to a matching dust, catching on the breeze to scatter to be no more in the world it the demon was never meant to see. "One question to arise in this chaos answered..."   
  
--   
  
It was not the prettiest or the smoothest of landings. The white tiger's paws and legs showed traces of the demon's dust, turning the coat a dull sooty black in places. The wind died down, the Shikigami twisting his head to glance at the man clinging to his back. Chuckling to himself, Byakko opened his maw and snagged Tsuzuki back the color of his shirt and pulled him off his back.   
  
Yelping as he was tugged away from the silky furred back, Tsuzuki's unusually colored eyes popped open wide, trying to twist his head to see where he was and what was happening to him. Finding himself dangling from Byakko's mouth like a kitten being carried by its parent, the Shinigami stopped struggling and tried to look pleadingly at the Shikigami to be put down.   
  
Placing the male gently onto the ground, Byakko dipped his head to nuzzle Tsuzuki's check. The color in his eyes softening to soft orchid, Tsuzuki hugged the white tiger, whispering something into one fluffy ear. With a deep rumbling laugh, the Shikigami butted Tsuzuki in the chest and vanished back to his home plane.   
  
He stood there for a few moments, his face in deep thought then shaking his head, Tsuzuki tried to straighten his shirt and hair, a grin falling into place on his lips. With a shout he flung himself at Hisoka, trying to get a look at the other male hidden inside of Tatsumi's shadows.   
  
"Wai! Hisoka! Are you okay? You freed the girl and we got the demon! We are the best... oh hi there Tatsumi, and Watari! Are we all going to go to breakfast together? I'm hungry!"   
  
Tatsumi allowed the shadows that had been active during the demon's short lived reign of terror fall as the hell creature was destroyed. He wasn't so concerned about Schwarz causing much harm to the Shinigami at the moment and Tsuzuki deserved to be able to see his partner. Even if Hisoka wasn't in the mood to be glomped, an action that was inevitable with Tsuzuki around.   
  
"I suppose breakfast would be nice, but it would only be fair to Weiß if some things were explained a bit better to them before we went anywhere. Watari-san and I haven't properly introduced ourselves after all," Tatsumi responded, crossing his arms.   
  
--   
  
_//Don't act so surprised that I know about your obsession with the Takatori boy,//_ Brad replied, eyes narrowing as he herded the group back to the car. _//It is not that hard to remember how much you liked that blonde even if I do not appear like I am listening to you.//_   
  
Looking back at the shadows around Muraki, Farfarello didn't bother to answer Schuldig. What he wanted to do was cut at that white flesh and see the red stain on that white clothing. Though he may have professed to being their 'savior', the only savior that Farfarello knew was the one that was the Liar's Son. Saviors were not to be trusted, they were not to be listened to. They used people and tossed them aside, they tore the psyche into thin strips to nibble on, they were the spreaders of lies and pain. And that this savior of theirs had also tended demon lore meant that he was doubly untrustworthy and unfit to be drawing breath.   
  
But before he could whip himself into another frenzy of hatred towards the doctor, Farfarello felt the touch of cold metal against his temple. Glancing over, he blinked at the sight of Brad's cold caramel eyes staring straight at him, the precog's lips pressed into a thin hardly amused line. Again he had his gun out and the barrel was pressed against his skull, the gun cocked and waiting.   
  
Survival won out over his obsession. Rolling his shoulders in a shrug, Farfarello gave Muraki one last look before slipping into the car, settling into the backseat and folding his arms across his chest. Reholstering his weapon, Brad shut the door and went to the driver side, getting in and starting up the car. His expression grim, he glanced up at the two in the backseat, and sighed faintly.   
  
"We are cleaning out the apartment the moment we get back. Everything we cannot easily carry I want to see destroyed. I don't want to leave any traces as to where we are going, not even a forwarding address. We've cut our leashes with Este but they have long memories. But this is our territory and I am not about to give Schwarz up to them or anyone else. Not when we managed to break free of control in the first place."   
  
--   
  
Virent eyes, formerly glazed in a state of exhaustion, blinked and widened at feeling the touch of Tsuzuki's hand - well, it was more of a glomp, given the older Shinigami's velocity on arrival and apparent need to use Hisoka as a sort of glomping-brake. For someone who generally avoided touch, a sudden glomp could be unnerving, especially when it carried the jubilant wave of triumphant emotions.   
  
Scowling irritably as he tried to hold onto his own feelings amidst the aura of Tsuzuki's, Hisoka tried to shove the violet-eyed man back, his attempt weak in execution. It was hard to push someone away when one could hardly move their arm enough to push even in the slightest of fashions. "Baka," he muttered, giving up and letting his hand drop back to the pavement, rather than spending more of his already low strength on trying to keep it raised. "Don't you care that you could have gotten yourself crushed flying around like that..."   
  
Shaking his head slightly at the other's blatant actions, he sighed softly. "Baka," he repeated, trying to shift his weight enough to get up. After a few seconds, he gave up and sunk back into his kneeling slouch again, literally too tired to move. "Don't go risking yourself stupidly like that again."   
  
Still preening over his victory of information, having had proven to him that his calculated guesses about the new Shinigami abilities, Watari held up his hand to 003 expectantly. After a few minutes, where the death of the demon went with only casual notice by the unruffled scientist, the miniature owl made a few grumbling noises and winged over a bag of birdseed that it had, by some method of the imagination, managed to have hidden on its avian body - the physics of Watari's owl friend were generally the sort that sane people never questioned, since it was insanity that those rules applied through.   
  
With the prize of the bet in hand, Watari grinned and pocketed the birdseed for later, when he would likely give it back to 003 in the form of dinner or a snack for the overfed bird. Then, after a semi-eternity of not paying attention to the battle, he turned amber eyes on the fading remains of the demon curiously. "Oh, that was it?" he asked, watching the last traces drift away in the breeze. Frowning, he adjusted the set of his glasses on his face and scrunched up his nose in thought. "I'd thought it would put up more of a fight than that..."   
  
Seeming in silent consideration of that for the moment, Watari paused and shrugged. It was a matter that he could consider later, once he had on hands his notes about what demon had likely been summoned to the host body. Until then, he could worry about other matters, such as whether or not anyone had been marked by the demon...   
  
"Okay, who's first up for a demon-search?" he proclaimed, rolling up his sleeves. The first response he got was an extremely tired glare from Hisoka, the youth apparently remembering the in-depth strip search the scientist had given Tsuzuki after the preliminary face-to-face encounter with the Devil's Trill demon.   
  
Okay, given the youngest's look of utter don't-go-there, Watari reconsidered. "Fine, breakfast sounds good," he said in a somewhat sulking tone. Then, just as quickly, the pout forming on his lips disappeared as his eyes brightened. "And maybe we can talk with the new Shinigami! Find out which of my all-correct assumptions are correct."   
  
--   
  
Being turned away by Schwarz was, no doubt, a slight ripple to upset his plans, but it was not going to stop Muraki from gaining what he wanted. Nothing slowed the persistent doctor, as some of the more independent victims of past had learned in the most difficult of fashions. Well, nothing stopped him, and he could stand for the occasional slowing of his intent. In the end, nothing mattered save the acquisition of his wanted prize. He always won, and he would with Schwarz, it would just take time.   
  
Smiling in mild amusement at the inter-member treatment of the group, Muraki simply turned and walked away from the psychic assassins, allowing his feather white teleport to again take him from the scene. Time was of the essence to some, but he would eventually be able to control time, and until then he could bide it as long as he needed.   
  
- end of arc 3 -   
  
  
  
**Footnotes:**   
  
Normally we would take this moment to respond to the reviews on this arc, but there has only been one. Thanks, sol-nemesis, for giving us some feedback!   
  
At this time, we'd like to take a moment to thank all our reviewers/readers of Arc One. your feedback is what motivates us to keep writing!   
  
There will be a short story written by Ran and Ken's players uploaded soon, and then one of us will get to readying arc three's first bits for download. We're nearing the end of the thrid arc already, so it shouldn't be too long.   
  
Reminder for those wanting to know who we are. Our ff.net profile and Yahoo Group should answer those questions, and any others you may have. 


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